Forever Patriot Forever Loyal
by Jade7777
Summary: Charlotte Peterson, a girl from a politically diverse family, is captured and falls into the hands of the notorious Colonel William Tavington.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own The Patriot or any of the characters from the movie.  
  
Chapter One: Flight and Capture  
  
I awoke to the sound of my younger brother, John, hurrying into my room. His shoes shuffled across the wooden floor of the bedroom I shared with my younger sisters, Margaret, and Susan.  
"Girls!" he said in a harsh but whispered voice.  
"What is it?" I asked, the first to rise.  
"There are some men riding towards the house. Mother thinks they may be here about Nathan!"  
My voice caught in my throat, and I didn't reply. Nathan was the eldest of our family, the Peterson's. Nathan had joined the Patriot army, and ever since the Loyalists that my late father had associated with had been harassing my family. Father had been an ardent Loyalist, but Nathan had not agreed.  
"Charlotte!" John said, jolting me from my thoughts. "Margaret, come on!" He turned and left the room to get my mother and, I imagined, the guns that were kept in a case in the hall.  
I turned my attention to my sisters. "Margaret, get Susan!" I directed. Susan was only two years old, so someone would have to carry her.  
"Charlotte, what's going on?" asked Margaret.  
"Someone's coming," I told her, hurrying to our dresser. I pulled out Susan's small quilt and handed it to Margaret, who wrapped our baby sister in it.  
"Should we get dressed?" asked Margaret.  
"Of course not!" I said. "We don't have time!"  
I grabbed a leather cord and tied my hair back quickly. "Let's go!" I said.  
I grabbed Margaret's hand and we hurried down the hallway to the stairs. Mother and John were there, waiting for us. Mother extended her arms and Margaret gave Susan to her. John, who was, as I had expected him to be, holding a pistol awkwardly, led the way down the stairs and toward the back of the house.  
"Can't we go out the front?" asked Margaret.  
"No," John told her. "They're coming from that way."  
"Who's coming?" I asked.  
"I'm not sure," John said. He looked at me, and even in the dark I could see that his eyes were wide with fear. "But I imagine they're Loyalists."  
"Hush," my mother said, herding us into the kitchen. There was a door out of the house through the kitchen. We waited there, huddled together, hoping that we would not have to leave our home.  
John had been watching the road in front of our house ever since we had been forced to move out of our original home in North Carolina. We had fled to South Carolina, where my mother's late sister had left a plantation to us. My father had died of causes still unknown to us, so there was no reason for us to stay. The only thing about moving that was hard on me was that there was no way to alert Nathan of our move, so we could no longer correspond with him.  
I was startled out of my thoughts by a loud thud coming from the entryway.  
"What was that?" Margaret whispered, so quietly that I could hardly hear her.  
"I'm not sure," I answered.  
"Be quiet," my mother told us. Her voice was shaky. Mother, being an incredibly strong woman, rarely got scared, so I knew that what was happening was serious.  
I listened intently to the commotion that was erupting in our home. I could hear heavy steps making their way up the stairs and throughout the rest of the house. They were drawing nearer to the kitchen.  
"We have to go," my mother said finally. I looked at her, and could see that tears were streaming silently down her cheeks. In that moment, I knew that we would never return to our home.  
John made his way to the door as nimbly as possible. He turned the knob and opened the wooden door into the outside. I thought we had made it, and that we would escape, but the door made a loud, creaking sound. The hinges hadn't been oiled since we had moved into the house several months ago.  
"Run!" my mother cried, thrusting Susan into Margaret's arms once again. She ushered us out the door, Margaret first, then me, then my mother, and John bringing up the rear with the pistol clutched tightly in his hand.  
I ran as fast as I could. I could hear the sound of British soldiers charging forward behind us. They meant to catch us.  
Margaret darted into the woods, and I prayed that they would not catch her and Susan. I hurried on past the tree line, hoping that I would divert the attention of our pursuers from my sisters.  
Suddenly, I heard gunshots behind me. I turned, and saw a red-coated soldier lying on his back in the grass. My eyes darted to John, who was standing about five feet from the soldier, pointing the gun where the man must have been standing.  
"John, run!" I screamed, seeing a group of soldiers hurrying towards him.  
He looked up, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. He was only fifteen, and he had just shot a man.  
"Run!" I called again.  
He stood, in shock of what he had just done, until the soldiers reached him. I watched two of them grab him by the arms and drag him away. I charged ahead, meaning to try and rescue him. I heard another shot, and I looked to where the shot had come from. John was lying on the ground, motionless.  
I looked around for my mother, but I didn't see her anywhere. I prayed that she had gotten away, that she had not seen what had just happened. I wished that I had not seen it.  
I turned once again and continued running. Tears blurred my vision and my insides quivered. I felt as though I was going to be ill, but I forced myself to continue running. I could still hear the soldiers pursuing me from behind.  
I looked everywhere for my mother and sisters as I ran, but I could not see them anywhere.  
Please, God, I prayed silently, please let them get away! Please let me get away...  
Unfortunately, I wasn't that lucky. I heard the even steps of a horse at full speed approaching me from behind. Terrified, I quickened my own pace, but it was futile. The horse caught up to me easily, and the man who was riding it reached down, grabbing me by the arm.  
I attempted to shake him off. "Let me go! Please!" I cried, pulling as hard as I could.  
However, the soldier pulled me up onto the horse and galloped onward. I looked back towards the forest once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of my mother and sisters. I did not see them, though. For all I knew, they were not even alive. 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Meeting My Captor  
  
We rode on through most of the light. I wanted greatly to turn and gaze into the eyes of my captor, but every time I attempted to move, he tightened his grip around my waist. Therefore, I spent the entirety of our ride wondering if the same man whose horse I was straddling was the man who had shot my brother.  
I thought a lot about John. Although merely fifteen, he had longed to follow our brother, Nathan, into battle with the Colonials. However, after our father had died, Mother had forbidden him to go, and, after much begging on my part, he conceded to stay with us and take on the role of "man of the family." My eyes watered both from the harsh October wind, and at the thought of losing my brother.  
Finally, when I thought that we would never cease riding, we stopped. I peered into the darkness, wondering where I was. The horses had been galloping at a full canter for several hours, so I knew that wherever I was, it was far away from my home.  
The soldier I had ridden with dismounted his horse.  
"Come on," he said, harshly. He had a thick, British accent. He grabbed me wrist and pulled me off of the horse.  
I glared at him; even I knew that he could not see me in the darkness. He pulled me along and I tried to keep up with his quick pace. Dawn was approaching and I was able to see his figure, black against the rising sun. He had long legs and broad shoulders. Finally, we reached a tent in the darkness. He pulled back the flap and shoved me in.  
The tent was small and crowded with both a cot and a desk. He lit the lamp that was sitting upon the desk, and for the first time, I was able to look on the face of my captor.  
His skin was slightly tanned and his brown hair was tied back, as was standard for military men. I gazed up into his strong, piercing blue eyes, which seemed to be scrutinizing me as well.  
"What is your name?" he asked finally.  
I gave him my most hateful look. "I have no reason to tell you anything," I answered.  
He raised a hand as though he was about to strike me across the face, and I put my hands up instinctively. For some reason, this caused him to laugh.  
"Not as brave as you seem, now are you?" he asked, smirking at me.  
He was mocking me, and for that I despised him even more. Finally, I spoke. "You have not revealed your identity to me," I said, looking up at him, "and therefore I will not reveal mine to you."  
"Very well," he said. "I can guess, at least, that you are a Peterson. My name is Colonel William Tavington."  
I stared at him in disbelief. William Tavington was the single most hated and feared man in the colonies. Every patriot family's worst fear was that he would make a raid on their home, as he was known mostly for his brutality. My father, of course, had spoken quite highly of the colonel, saying that the only way to stamp the rebellion out was to attack where people would take it the hardest. He had ceased to make such comments after my mother's family, who were well known for their strong patriotic beliefs, was attacked.  
"Well," said the colonel. "I have answered your question, now I expect an answer to mine."  
"I am..." my voice caught and I was unable to finish my sentence. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of what was to become of me, now that I was in the hands of such a horrible man. However, I reasoned with myself, I would have to be strong if I were ever going to get myself out of this. "My name is Charlotte Peterson," I finally answered, holding my head high.  
He said nothing, so I decided to use the silence as an opportunity to find out why I was being held captive. "Why are you holding me here?" I asked him boldly.  
"I am holding you here because your older brother, Nathan Peterson, I believe, has made quite a nuisance of himself. And, I have learned in my time here, the best way to stop you sentimental colonials from being problems, is to attack a man's home, capture his family."  
I stared at him, wondering how one man could be so evil.  
"However," he said, startling me from my thoughts, "do not think that simply because you are me prisoner you can laze about doing nothing. Tell me, what skills, if any, have you?"  
"Why, sir," I asked through gritted teeth, "should I work for the same man who captured me and probably killed my brother?"  
"Because," he said, smirking once again, "the only way I am going to allow you to be fed and sheltered is if you earn your keep. And, you know, some of these men haven't seen a woman in quite a while, so the only way that I can promise you protection is if you earn it."  
I glared at him again, and finally answered his original question. "I have some medical expertise."  
"Ah," he said, nodding. "And, pray tell, how did you acquire such skills?"  
"I have..." my voice caught once again, and I fought to maintain my composure. "I had, up until last night, three younger siblings. After my brother went to war, and my father died, my mother became ill in her grief. Therefore, it became my responsibility to care for them. She was beginning to recover..."  
He thought on this for a moment and then asked; "You never cared for any wounded rebels, then?"  
I could not tell if this was a serious question, or if he was attempting to mock me further, but I decided to answer his question.  
"Actually," I said, "I have tended wounded soldiers. Both colonial and British. There was a skirmish, about a mile from my home not too long ago. Many wounded soldiers came to us begging for help and medical attention. I gave it to them."  
"You would save the life of your enemies?" he asked, appearing to be mildly surprised.  
"I believe that any wounded man, regardless of his political beliefs, is still a man," I answered, surprising even myself with my boldness.  
"I see," he said quietly. Suddenly, however, he turned on me. "Yes, well," he barked, "you have half an hour to rest, and then myself, or one of my men, will come and get you. I'm sure you'll be needed somewhere."  
He walked out of the tent, and I sat down on the cot. How could I sleep here? How could I be the servant of this horrible man? Then I realized that if I wanted to live, I had to. 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Important Questions  
  
I finally did fall asleep on the lumpy cot that Col. Tavington had left me with. However, once I did sleep, my dreams were plagued by images of my brother. I dreamt of him being shot, of him as a child, of our times together. Then I dreamed of my mother and sisters being captured and enslaved, as I was.  
I awoke to a strange voice calling into my tent. "Get up!" the voice barked.  
I rose and was about to walk out of the tent, when it occurred to me that I was still wearing nothing but my night gown. I looked around the room for something to cover myself with.  
"I've got nothing to wear!" I cried out to the soldier.  
He said nothing, but threw a soiled, brown work dress and a wrinkled white apron and cap. They were obviously used as well, because the apron was sprinkled with blood. I held it out in disgust, feeling dirty just to touch it. But, knowing I had no other choice, I slipped out of my nightgown and pulled on the dress. I tied the dirty apron around my waist, and, after tying my hair up in a bun, placed the cap on top of my head.  
"Come on!" said the soldier, harshly. "You've got five seconds and I'm coming in!"  
I quickly lifted back the flap and hurried outside. "That won't be necessary, sir," I said, forcing myself to hold my head high.  
The soldier who was waiting for me certainly did not look as intimidating as he sounded. He was a relatively small man, only about an inch taller than me, with blonde hair and dark brown eyes. His face was actually quite pleasant in appearance, but he made it quite clear to me, through his demeanor, that no matter his appearance, he was not going to be a nice man.  
"You are Charlotte Peterson, correct?" he asked me.  
"Yes, sir."  
"Very well. You will be acting as a nurse for our wounded. I am Captain Williams. Colonel Tavington told me to let you know that he will be checking on you daily."  
I simply nodded.  
"You're going to be working in that tent over there," he said, gesturing towards a large tent across from my own. I had not even seen it the previous evening. "Go on, now!"  
I hurried across the field, but halfway there I realized that my feet were still bare. I stared down at them. They were scratched and bloodied from running over sticks and stones. I ran back to my tent.  
"What is it?" asked Captain Williams. "I told you to go over there!"  
"Sir, I need something to wrap my feet with," I said.  
He sighed and looked down, as though carefully considering my statement. However, it wasn't long before he turned on me, giving me an awful, angry look.  
"You'll find something in the medical tent!" he yelled, shoving me. "Now go and do your work!"  
I scurried back across the field to the medical tent. My plan had been to rip some material off the hem of my night gown and wrap my feet, but that obviously wasn't going to work.  
I looked around the large tent. There were cots set up everywhere in neat, even rows. Every so often there was a table with medical supplies on it. I hurried to one of the tables and grabbed two long strips of white cloth. I wrapped my feet with them as quickly as I could, fearful that one of the soldiers would enter.  
There seemed to be no other medical staff in the tent, so I assumed I was alone. There were no beds occupied. I stood in the tent, unsure of what to do. There were no battles or skirmishes going on near the camp, so there was no one for me to treat all day. I simply sat, thinking about what I was going to do about my situation.  
Eventually, I resolved that it would be best for me to stay in the camp for a few days, until my feet healed, and it was assumed that I was going to make no attempt to escape. Then, while I was supposed to be working in the medical tent, I would slip out from behind and make my way into the woods. I could only hope that there would not be a lot of soldiers, wounded or otherwise, in the tent within the next two or three days.  
Several long, uneventful hours passed with nothing for me to do. At one point a man came in with a deep splinter, which I removed, but other than that my day was quite dull.  
Finally, when the sun was beginning to set, Captain Williams came into the tent for me.  
"Colonel Tavington would like to see you," he said. "I will escort you to his tent."  
I said nothing, but allowed the captain to lead me out of the medical tent and into another, somewhat larger than my own. I lifted back the flap and walked in. The tent was well lit with several lanterns. There was a fancy, carved wooden desk and chair and a cot, which certainly looked less lumpy than the one I had been forced to sleep on that morning.  
The colonel was sitting at his desk writing something, but when I entered he stood and shoved the paper into a drawer in the desk.  
"Captain," said the colonel, looking over my shoulder. "You are excused."  
I looked behind me. Captain Williams was standing close behind me, but he nodded at the colonel's order and left us alone in the tent.  
"Well, I trust you made yourself useful today?" asked Col. Tavington.  
"Yes sir," I said sarcastically. "I removed a splinter."  
He gave me a strange look and I could not tell whether he was annoyed by my sarcasm or not. Evidently, he was not, because he continued on.  
"Very well, then. I said that I would be checking in on you, but it seemed simpler to have you come to me. I trust you have some questions?"  
I was somewhat taken back by his sudden kindness, and I decided it would be best to be as polite as possible.  
"Yes sir," I said. "I do have some questions."  
"Go on," he said, nodding.  
My mind raced with thoughts of what to ask first, and I finally settled on what seemed the most important question at the time.  
"Do you know what has become of my mother and sisters?"  
"Apparently, the escaped from us. Much to my disliking, of course, but I suppose you will do."  
I breathed a sigh of relief, happy to know that my mother and sisters were not in the hands of the British soldiers. Then my mind turned to my brother, John, and his horrible death the previous night.  
"Did you kill my brother?" I asked him, my voice shaking.  
He looked at me strangely. I was quickly discovering that when he wasn't angry, Colonel Tavington was a very difficult man to read.  
"No, actually," he said. "Although I have been sent on missions to kill families of colonial soldiers before, this one in particular was strictly to capture you and your family. The men who shot the boy have been punished."  
"How-" my voice caught as I tried not to cry in front of the colonel. I had to be strong. For my own good, I had to be strong. "How were they punished?" I finally finished.  
"That is none of your concern," he answered. "Have you any more questions?"  
"Yes!" I sputtered. "How long are you going to keep me here?"  
"Until your brother Nathan gives himself up," answered Colonel Tavington, shrugging.  
"My brother is a soldier!" I said. "Just as you are! Why are you doing this to him? Why not some other soldier?"  
The colonel sighed. For a moment I thought that he might not answer my question, but he looked up and spoke again.  
"Your brother left the colonial regulars and joined a particular strong group of militiamen. Capturing him is our way of learning his whereabouts."  
I nodded. "And if he does not reveal himself?" I asked the question that had been weighing most heavily on my mind.  
I gazed into the icy blue eyes of Colonel Tavington. He looked about thirty years old, and if I hadn't hated him so much I would have thought him quite handsome.  
"If your brother does not reveal himself then you will most likely remain with us, working as you are now, though not necessarily in my own camp. I cannot allow you your freedom after you have seen our camps and had the opportunity to steal information."  
"But I haven't!" I cried, feeling desperate.  
"So you say," Colonel Tavington told me. "But, unfortunately for you, I have no way of proving such things."  
I nodded, looking up into his eyes, which seemed to change from light to darker shades of blue in the flickering light of his lantern. For a moment his look seemed to soften as he gazed upon me, but it was only for a brief second.  
"Very well then. I believe we have concluded our meeting for tonight. I will escort you back to your tent," he said. I couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be studying me as curiously as I was him.  
We walked out of the his tent and down the path towards my own. He lifted back the flap.  
"Get some sleep," he said. "Captain Williams or myself will be around in the morning."  
"Sir," I said, suddenly feeling that my stomach was empty. "I've had nothing to eat."  
"Haven't you?" he asked, thinking this over. "Very well, just a moment." He turned and left my tent.  
I sat down on my cot, feelings of grief and hunger and exhaustion rushing over me. I felt ill. I lay down on the cot, closing my eyes briefly. Before I knew it, I was asleep.  
When I awoke several hours later to my stomach's persistent growling, there was a tray with some bread and the last apples of the season on it. 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: No Chance to Escape  
  
The next day I awoke and dressed before Captain Williams had come to get me. I tied my long, waves of golden red hair back into a braid that reached my waist, and secured the strips of cloth wrapped around my feet. I put on my cap and apron and walked across the pathway to the medical tent.  
  
When I entered I was surprised to see the colonel himself sitting on a cot. His waistcoat was undone and his expression was one of severe pain. I looked around, and then remembered that I was the only medical staff in the camp.  
  
In that moment, the better part of me was screaming to allow Colonel Tavington to suffer, but something about the way his face contorted with pain made me go to him. I approached the coat his was sitting on, nearly doubled over.  
  
"Sir?" I asked meekly, not wishing to anger him.  
  
"What?" he said. The word seemed forced, and he winced in pain when he said it.  
  
"What happened to you?" I asked, nervously. There was no visible wound that I could see, but the colonel's arms were wrapped tightly around his abdomen, so he could very well have been covering it up.  
  
"I…" he nearly choked on the words. "I…hurt…myself…"  
  
I rolled my eyes and then prayed that he hadn't seen it. "Yes, Colonel," I said, as gently as possible. "I can see that. But how did you hurt yourself?"  
  
"I…was…riding…with the…Dragoons…" he sputtered, wincing as he spoke each word. "Some…colonials…shot…at…us…"  
  
I cut him off. "Was anyone shot?" I asked.  
  
"No…" he said, glaring at me for interrupting him. "But…I…fell…off…my…horse…"  
  
I covered my mouth trying not to laugh at him. Somehow it simply amazed me that a colonel in the British army would fall off his horse. But then I looked at the colonel, clutching his sides, obviously in terrible pain, and the laughter ceased on my lips.  
  
"What hurts?" I asked him, holding my hands out, unsure what to do. This was, after all, my captor.  
  
"My damn chest!" he yelled. "What's it look like?"  
  
I jumped back, afraid for a moment that he would strike me. Then I realized that physically, I had the advantage. He was injured, and for the first time in the nearly two days that I had been in the camp, I felt a slight bit of control.  
  
"Colonel," I said, stepping towards him once again. "You're going to have to let me see it."  
  
He gave me another of his famous glares, his blue eyes on fire with white hot rage. Then, as though suddenly realizing his position, he let his arms rest. I took my chance and hurried to look at his chest.  
  
I pressed on his rib cage and stomach. When I reached the muscle just below his rib cage, he cried out in pain. His left hand rose and flew at me, striking me hard on the face. I fell on the ground and stared at him in disbelief. The first time I had not been waiting for him to hit me was the one time that he had.  
  
He looked at me, and his expression changed to one of sympathy. I picked myself up and approached him cautiously.  
  
"I'm not going to hit you again," he said, frowning.  
  
"You'd best not, or I may decide I don't know what's wrong with you," I threatened. It was dangerous business, threatening one's captor, but I was not going to allow myself to be abused.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. His voice had grown almost small and he reminded of me of my younger siblings apologizing to my mother for something they had done wrong.  
  
"Thank you," I said. I had not expected him to apologize, but it was certainly welcome. "Can I please have a look at your abdomen again?" I asked him. "I promise I'll be careful."  
  
He nodded and I proceeded to touch the muscle again, gentler this time. The area was somewhat swollen, and a bit red.  
  
"How did you land when you fell?" I asked him.  
  
"I landed on my stomach on a fallen branch," he answered. "Right about where you were checking."  
  
I nodded, now sure of my diagnosis. "Well, you've badly bruised this muscle right here," I told him, pointing to the area that seemed to be causing him so much pain. "The reason your chest hurts is because this muscle helps you breath. It will get better, but you'll have to be careful not to over exert yourself for a few days, and be extra careful."  
  
"Is there anything to do for the pain?" he asked.   
  
I couldn't believe he was behaving like such a child over one injury. Perhaps he wasn't the bear of a man that I had assumed him to be. But then I remember that he was holding me against my will, and all thoughts of sympathy fleeted.  
  
"I'm afraid not. You're just going to have to be careful, and take it easy."  
  
"Impossible," he said. "We're moving out in less than an hour."  
  
My heart caught in my throat. Moving out? This meant that my hopes of escaping the camp in the afternoon were dashed completely. There was no way for me to get away, and the next camp could be more difficult to escape from. I felt as though I was going to cry, but forced my eyes to remain dry.  
  
"…we'll be moving there for the winter," the colonel concluded.  
  
I had not even heard him. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of how to get out of my situation.  
  
"Moving where, sir?" I asked.  
  
"To the training camp I just described," he said, exasperated.  
  
"Could you describe it again?" I asked. Then, in an attempt to excuse my lack of listening skills, "I was trying to think of a way to help with your pain, and I didn't hear all of the description."  
  
He nodded. "Did you think of anything?" he asked me, looking hopeful.  
  
"For your pain? No, I'm afraid not."  
  
He nodded again, sighing. "Very well. The training camp we are moving to is our most secured winter encampment, and by far the most luxurious."  
  
I tried to imagine a luxurious war camp, but I could not picture such a thing. Colonel Tavington went on in his description, giving me an idea of what to expect.  
  
"There is a wall around the perimeter and a large house…well, more of a mansion, really, that all of the officers stay in. There are…" His eyes looked to the ceiling as he tried to remember something. "There are about twenty rooms, I think."  
  
By this time I was forced to lean on the cot nearest me. A wall? And a mansion? I had no chance of escaping from such a place!  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked gruffly, once again annoyed by me.  
  
"Yes," I said, my hands shaking at the idea of spending the entire winter in the care of Colonel Tavington.  
  
"Well, from the look on your face," he said knowingly, "you are not happy about the move. Which leads me to believe that you had plans of escape."  
  
"No!" I said, shaking my head automatically.  
  
"No matter," he said, shrugging. The movement caused him to wince.  
  
"Don't do that," I cautioned. "Your pain is subsiding, I can tell. Shrugging and other upper body movements are only going to aggravate your injury."  
  
"Well, you'll be staying in the mansion with the officers," he told me.  
  
I gazed at him, confused. There was almost a look of boyish playfulness in his dancing blue eyes.  
  
"Why?" I asked him.  
  
"Because," he said. "First off, I don't trust you. And more than that, I don't trust my men to treat you appropriately."  
  
I thought that maybe I should point out that striking me across the face was not what I would consider appropriate behavior, but I thought better of it. Surely, the behavior he was referring to was far worse.  
  
"Well," he said, finally getting up. He winced and began to double over again, and I grabbed his arm to stabilize him.  
  
"Be careful!" I scolded.  
  
"I'm not a child, unlike yourself," he snapped, pulling away.  
  
"I am not a child," I stated simply.  
  
"How old are you?" he asked me.  
  
"Nineteen years of age, sir," I answered proudly.  
  
He nodded, turning this over in his mind. "You look younger," he said finally.  
  
"What were you saying?" I asked him, not wishing to discuss my age. Although considered a woman, I still looked a girl of fifteen, no matter what I did. At home, people had often confused John for the older sibling. My eyes watered at the thought of my brother, and I forced him out of my head for the moment.  
  
"Oh yes," Colonel Tavington said, remembering what he had been about to say. "We should be leaving."  
  
I nodded and walked with him out of the tent. Outside, the men were assembling, and several wagons were lined up along the pathway, preparing to leave.  
  
"They're not taking the tents?" I asked, confused. Surely they wouldn't leave them behind for the colonials.  
  
"No, there's another company moving in behind us," Colonel Tavington explained.  
  
"I see." Then, a thought suddenly occurred to me. "How will my brother ever find me now that we're moving?" I asked him, frantically.  
  
"We'll discuss this later," he said, pushing the matter off to the side. He was avoiding the subject, I could tell. "I have to go. You'll ride on the back of that wagon there." He gestured to a large wagon.  
  
Captain Williams was holding the reins. There were a few supplies in the back, but for the most part, I had the wagon to myself. It occurred to me briefly that perhaps I could jump off of the wagon as we were moving and run away, but then I saw how many soldiers were assembling and realized that it was futile. I had not realized how many soldiers were in the small camp.  
  
I climbed onto the back of the wagon, leaning my head against the side. Captain Williams said nothing to me, and I was glad of it. I did not like him. Even the colonel, who I had believed I despised, and who had struck me, was better than Captain Williams. Every time I saw him he eyed me maliciously, as though he knew something about me that I did not. I would go so far as to say that I was afraid of him.  
  
I was suddenly jolted slightly, and the wagon began moving. I stared out at the camp, which was quickly fading behind me as we moved out. With the camp, any chance of escape that I seemed to have had, faded. 


	5. Chapter Five

Author's Note: Sorry, I know this is not as long as I generally write, but I am having some writer's block. Don't worry though, I'm sure I'll get over it soon! (hopefully!)  
  
Chapter Five: The Mansion  
  
By the time we reached the new camp, it was dark outside. A steady, cold rain had been pouring for several hours, and I shivered in the back of the wagon as we rode into the camp. There was a large wooden wall around the encampment, at least a foot thick, and probable ten feet high. There was an opening in the front, which we moved through.  
The huge, wooden gate closed behind us and I peered through the darkness, and the rain. There was a large field, and a path through the middle of it. The officers dismounted their horses and lower ranking soldiers took the reins. I imagined they were leading the horses to the stables.  
Captain Williams got off the wagon and headed around it to where I was sitting, soaked and shivering.  
"Come on!" he growled at me.  
I crawled to the edge of the wagon and got off.  
Captain Williams grabbed my arm and pulled me along behind him.  
"Let go!" I said, angrily as we walked along the darkened path to the mansion. "You're hurting me!"  
He let go and allowed me to walk behind him. About halfway along the path, I was forced to stop and catch my breath. Throughout the day, I had developed a harsh cough, and whenever I inhaled I could feel a stabbing pain in my lungs.  
"Come on," said Captain Williams, grabbing my arm again.  
I gasped for breath as he pulled me along once again. He pulled me faster than I could go, and I tripped and fell to my knees in the mud.  
Captain Williams turned, and shook his head as he looked down on me. "You're hopeless," he muttered. "Get up."  
I did as he said, afraid of what he might do to me and we made our way down the rest of the path. By the time we reached the large double doors to the mansion, I was out of breath and wheezing. The Captain ushered me into the mansion.  
I walked into a beautiful entryway. There were wooden end tables on both sides of the room, on which vases and other decorative pieces were set. On one wall was a mirror, and on the other, a painting of a cabin in the woods. I looked around until my gaze fell on the mirror.  
My hair was matted by rain and there was mud smeared all over my dress. I looked away, not wanting to see myself in such a state.  
"Wait here," the captain ordered. "And don't touch anything. You're filthy."  
I nodded and he walked away. I felt a great sense of relief being away from the captain.  
I stood alone in the entryway, feeling awkward and out of place. After a couple of minutes, the door behind me opened.  
I stepped out of the way, and a few soldiers came in. Some nodded at me, while others shook their heads in disapproval. At the rear was Colonel Tavington.  
"Miss Peterson," he said, "What are you doing in here?"  
"Captain Williams brought me here," I explained. "He told me to wait for him."  
Colonel Tavington nodded, looking me up and down. "Take a little tumble, did you?" he asked, his eyes twinkling at the sight of my dress.  
I looked down, suddenly self-conscious. "Sort of," I mumbled.  
"Well, I have to go make a report to Lord General Cornwallis, my superior here."  
He turned to walk away, and I grabbed his arm impulsively. He stared at my hand for a moment and then shrugged it off.  
"What?" he asked, annoyed with me again.  
"Sir," I began. "Have you heard anything from my brother?"  
"We will discuss this later," he said, avoiding the subject, just as he had that morning. Then he turned and walked away.  
Something in the way he kept avoiding the subject of my brother made me feel uneasy. I did not have a lot of time to dwell on it, though, because Captain Williams returned with a short, stocky woman at his side. Her clothes were similar to mine, so I imagined she must also be a servant to the British army.  
"This is Abigail," Captain Williams said, shoving the woman forward.  
She looked to be in her late twenties to early thirties, and she stared at the ground nervously.  
"She is going to show you to the washroom and get you some dry clothes."  
"Thank you, sir," I said, surprised that the captain would offer me anything in the way of help.  
"Not my idea," he said, shrugging. "Colonel Tavington ordered it."  
I nodded. "Well then, I take it back," I said, giving him the meanest look I could muster under the circumstances.  
Abigail's eyes grew wide. Obviously, she would not dare talk back to Captain Williams, which made me even more weary of him. Had he abused her in some way? If he could hurt another woman, surely he could hurt me.  
Fortunately, though, he said nothing, and walked away.  
I turned to Abigail. "My name is Charlotte," I introduced myself.  
She nodded. "Nice to meet you. I never heard anyone talk to Captain Williams like that."  
"He's awful, isn't he?" I said.  
"You have no idea. Look out for him. He does things to women prisoners that might be considered...inappropriate."  
I tried to answer, but was overtaken by another fit of coughing. My chest felt horrible, and I nearly doubled over, trying to breathe.  
Abigail put a hand on my back to steady me. "You're sick," she stated simply. "Come on. We have to get you warm."  
I did my best to stop coughing and Abigail took my hand and lead my out of the entryway, and to the bottom of the stairs. I went first, and Abigail followed up behind me, in case I were to begin coughing again, and fall. Slowly but surely, I made it to the top of the stairs, and Abigail lead me down the wide, well lit hallway. When we reached the fourth door on the right, we stopped.  
"This is the washroom," Abigail said. "Are you going to need help?"  
I shook my head. "No, no, I'll be fine."  
She nodded. "I've already got the tub filled. We knew your group was arriving tonight, so we got everything ready ahead of time. There's a chair with a nightdress sitting on it, and some slippers, and a robe. Colonel Tavington told me to get things ready for a young woman, so that's what I got. Just come on out when you're done, and I'll take you to your room."  
I looked at her, surprised. "I get a room?" I asked. "Just for myself?"  
"Not permanently, I imagine, but since you are noticeable ill, it was recommended that you have a room for tonight."  
I nodded. "Thank you Abigail."  
I turned and walked through the open door. I locked it behind me, bearing in mind what Abigail had said about Captain Williams. I stripped out of my soiled clothes immediately. I let my hair down and sat in the large tub, sinking down in it until my entire body was submerged. I got myself clean and then got out.  
There was a warm towel waiting for me, so I got dry. Then I pulled on the fresh, starched nightgown that Abigail had laid out for me. I put on the light, leather slippers that were there, and combed through my hair with my fingers.  
I picked up the robe that Abigail had left for me. It was a pale shade of green, with darker green flowers embroidered on it. I pulled it on and made my way to the door, coughing again.  
I was about to open the door, but my coughing stopped me in my tracks. I leaned on the door, trying to breath. Slowly, I slid to the floor, clutching my chest, trying to stop coughing.  
There was a short, rapping knock on the door.  
"Are you okay?" came Abigail's voice.  
I tried to say no, but I couldn't get the word out. I gasped for breath.  
Abigail knocked on the door again.  
"Charlotte, you locked the door," she called. "You have to unlock it for me to get in." Her voice was soothing, but I could hear a hint of nervousness in it.  
I turned, gasping, and reached for the door knob. My coughing began to subside, and I quickly unlocked the door, and crawled out of the way so that Abigail could get in.  
The door burst open, and Abigail hurried to my side. She felt my forehead and cheeks.  
"Charlotte, you have to try to get up, okay? I can't carry you, so you're going to have to work with me."  
I nodded, and struggled to my feet. Abigail extended an arm for my to lean on. We left the washroom, and somehow, I made it down the hallway to the room Abigail told me would be my quarters. She helped me into the large, four poster bed, and covered me. She walked away for a moment and returned, placing a cool cloth on my forehead.  
"You try and rest," she told me. "You came with Colonel Tavington's men, right?"  
I nodded, weakly.  
"Alright, well, I'll let him know you're ill and he'll get a doctor for you. We'll have you well in no time," she reassured me.  
I nodded again, and closed my eyes.  
The last thing I heard before falling into a fitful, fevered sleep, was Abigail's footsteps leaving the room, and the door closing behind me. 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Doctor Stanton  
  
I awoke some time later (I'm not sure how long I was asleep) to the hushed voices of two men and a woman. At first I felt frightened, wondering why they were in my room. Where was my mother? Where were my brothers and sisters? Then, slowly, memories flooded back into my mind, and I knew where I was.  
I struggled, wheezing, into a sitting position. A man with a concerned, wrinkled face, turned to me.  
"Ah," he said. He had a slight British accent. "You should be resting."  
"How long have I been asleep?" I asked, my voice cracking. I leaned my head back into my pillow. Suddenly, holding it up seemed such a struggle. I was hot, and sweaty, despite the cold that I knew was outside.  
"A couple of hours, Charlotte," answered the woman.  
I looked up into the kindly eyes of Abigail.  
"Why don't you go see to your other chores, miss?" asked the wrinkled man. "I will need to listen to her breathing, and I can't do it properly with you bustling about."  
Abigail nodded, gave me one last worried look, and exited the room. I suddenly felt terribly modest and self-conscious alone in the room with the two men.  
I forced myself to look up and recognized the second man as Colonel Tavington. He was pacing my room. I could not tell if it was out of concern or boredom.  
The wrinkled man walked to my bedside. "I need to listen to your breathing," he stated simply. "Colonel Tavington, help me hold her up."  
The colonel joined the wrinkled man on the opposite side of my bed. I looked at him, curiously, fishing in the pools of blue that were his eyes for answers.  
"This is Dr. Stanton," he told me, as though that was all the explanation necessary.  
"Try and sit up," said the doctor.  
I struggled to sit, but found it incredibly difficult. I felt a warm hand on my back, gently helping me up. I looked at Colonel Tavington, and he smiled at me. Even though the smile seemed somewhat forced to me, I accepted it and smiled back, weakly.  
The next thing I felt was a cold metal instrument, also on my back. My robe had been removed while I had slept, I prayed by Abigail, and not one of the men. I felt exposed and violated in nothing but the thin white nightgown, but in my current state, there was nothing I could do about it.  
"Take deep breaths in and out," Doctor Stanton instructed me.  
I attempted to do so, but after my first deep intake of air, I began coughing uncontrollably once again. I could feel the cold metal circle press against my back harder, and Colonel Tavington grabbed hold of my shoulder as I fell forward limply.  
"Are you sure she can do this right now?" asked Colonel Tavington.  
I was shocked by his apparent concern for my health, and would have told him so, but I could barely breath, let alone speak, until my coughing subsided.  
"I assumed she would begin coughing, which is actually more helpful to me than hearing her regular breathing. Hearing her cough leads me closer to a diagnosis."  
Finally, I regained my ability to breathe.  
"She can lie down again," Dr. Stanton told Colonel Tavington, as though I wasn't even there.  
Colonel Tavington gently laid me back down upon my pillow.  
Dr. Stanton turned to me suddenly. "How long have you been feeling ill?" he asked me, accusingly.  
I thought. "Just since today, I think.," I answered.  
"Are you sure?" asked Dr. Stanton, skeptically.  
"Sir, my brother was killed about three days ago," I answered him. "So yes, I have been feeling poorly. But I believed it was from grief alone."  
The doctor nodded, and pulled Colonel Tavington away. They tried to converse quietly, but I was still able to hear them speaking.  
"What have her living arrangements been since you captured her?" asked the doctor.  
"She's stayed in a tent," Colonel Tavington answered.  
"Did she have any blankets?"  
The colonel gazed up toward my ceiling, thoughtfully. "Damn," he muttered, finally. "No. She's had a cot, and nothing else."  
"Well, two nights like that in the cold air, and then today, would have to be the causes of her illness."  
"What do you think is wrong with her?" asked Colonel Tavington.  
"I believe she has an illness called bronchitis. She will, unless it progresses into pneumonia, get well, but she is going to have to stay abed until I say otherwise."  
Colonel Tavington nodded. He muttered something to the doctor, they shook hands, and then Dr. Stanton left the room.  
Colonel Tavington walked to my bed, sitting in a chair that was on the right side of me.  
"You have bronchitis," he stated simply.  
"Yes, I heard," I answered weakly.  
"You'll have to stay in bed."  
"No doubt a harder blow to you than to me," I said, remembering that he was my captor.  
His blue eyes looked somewhat startled at this, and he looked at me intensely. "I know what you think of me," he said. "And yet there is something about you that I like, Charlotte Peterson. I can't put my finger on it, but it's there, for sure."  
"Well then...thank you, I believe."  
"Right well, you're looking quite pale again. Perhaps you'd best get some rest."  
"Yes, perhaps that would be for the best," I admitted.  
He nodded, and turned to leave. Then I remember something.  
"Sir!" I called, which spurred a brief fit of coughing. He waited for me to recover, and, once I had, I continued. "How is your muscle? The one you bruised?"  
He smiled at me, his fiery blue eyes twinkling. "Quite well, thank you."  
He turned and left my room, shutting the door behind him. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Author's Note: ladymarytavington- I am so pleased that you enjoy my story as much as I do yours! Thank you for your reviews!  
  
Chapter Seven: Recovery  
  
I awoke several times throughout the night, coughing and wheezing, but somehow I made it through until morning. Abigail visited me briefly in the morning, bringing me some warm tea to drink and placing some cool cloths on my still warm forehead.  
"Thank you," I told her. She had been so helpful, even though I was nothing more than a stranger to her.  
"Just doing my job," she had answered, but the twinkle in her eyes and the smile on her face told me that even if it was not her responsibility to take care of me, she would still visit me.  
After Abigail left, I spent the majority of my morning lying in bed, doing absolutely nothing. There was a part of me that relished the mere idea of doing nothing, but I was quick becoming restless.  
After what seemed like hours of boredom, I fell asleep once again. I awoke some time later to a short, rapping knock on my door. I awoke and gasped from the surprise, which sent me off coughing again. As soon as I had recovered, I pulled the covers up tight around me, and answered the visitor.  
"Come in," I called. My voice was still raspy, but was somewhat stronger than the previous evening.  
The door opened and the bright light from the hallway poured in. I had not realized, in my drowsy state, how dark my room actually was.  
To my great surprise, Colonel Tavington entered the room with a tray of food and a book. He came to my bedside.  
"Don't you have work or something?" I asked, surprised that he would be bringing my food on a tray, especially considering that I was his captive.  
He gave me a questioning look, and then answered, "I have one day's leave, since we just arrived, and I decided I would check on you. If you want though, I could leave." Something about the way he spoke made me feel somewhat sorry for him.  
"No, no," I explained. "I didn't mean it like that. You are welcome to visit me. It simply was not expected."  
"You know, Miss. Peterson, I may seem a terrible brute, but I do have some heart." I could not tell if he was serious or teasing me.  
"Of course you do," I said sarcastically. "You simply hide it terribly well."  
Once again, he looked hurt. For a big mean soldier, he seemed to be emotionally hurt quite easily.  
"I'm sorry," I said, sighing. The quick outburst of air made a harsh high pitched wheezing sound.  
Colonel Tavington gave me a shocked look. "That sounds awful!" he said, looking at me.  
"It really doesn't feel that wonderful either," I admitted.  
He chuckled, and shook his head.  
"What?" I asked, not sure why he was laughing at me.  
"Nothing," he said, still laughing quietly.  
"No really, what are you laughing at?"  
"You," he said, grinning. "Some of the things you say just strike me as funny."  
I smiled. "Must be the fever," I quipped.  
He chuckled again. "Things like that."  
He took a seat in the chair next to my bed and I munched on some of the food he had brought up to me and drank some more tea. It was a bit stronger than what my mother would have made, but good nonetheless. However, thinking of my mother made me think of my siblings, which, in turn, caused my thoughts to veer towards the memory of John, my poor brother, shot at the mere age of fifteen.  
Colonel Tavington noticed that my eyes were moistening, but he said nothing, which I appreciated. I did not want him prying into my personal affairs, especially considering that he and his men had brought about much of my recent sadness. On the other hand, something about the twinkling in the colonel's amazing blue eyes, and the way I could make him laugh made him seem quite attractive to me. I shook my head, as though the thought would simply exit my mind, but I could not shake away the fact that Colonel Tavington may not be as awful as I had assumed.  
"What?" he asked me, bringing me out of my thoughts.  
"Nothing," I answered.  
To my surprise, he did not press the issue. "You seem somewhat better today," he said, instead.  
"Yes," I answered. "I feel somewhat better as well. I think getting a good night's sleep last night did me some good."  
"I'm glad. I felt bad about having contributed to your illness."  
I thought about that, and it hit me. The only reason the colonel was visiting me was to ease his own conscience. He felt bad about me getting sick because of him, and so he was here with food and drinks for me, so that he would feel better!  
"You really don't have to feel bad about it," I said, not wanting him here just because he felt bad about his actions.  
He nodded. "But I do," he said.  
"Well, you needn't," I answered him stubbornly.  
He got up, taking the hint. "You know," he said, glaring at me. "If you wanted me to leave, you could have simply told me so."  
He gave me one final look and left the room. Something in his eyes when he had looked at me told me that he really felt badly about the whole situation, which made me feel bad. But I didn't need him pitying me and sitting with me just so he could feel better. He had captured me, and if I ever wanted to escape from Colonel Tavington and the British Green Dragoons, I could not allow myself to become involved with him.  
The thing that made me saddest was that no matter how I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was attracted to Colonel Tavington. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Author's Note: I finally wrote another chapter! Not only was last week a stressful week for me, but I was experiencing some serious writer's block! I think I have recovered though, so here is chapter eight! I hope you like it!  
  
Chapter Eight: Around the Mansion  
  
By the next morning I was feeling a great deal better. However, the confrontation with Colonel Tavington was still gnawing at me. I had given it all a great deal of thought throughout the night, and I came to the conclusion that I had acted rashly. Colonel Tavington had done nothing to disrespect me, he had simply paid me a visit.  
I would have sought him out and apologized, were it not for the fact that I was still bedridden, by order of Dr. Stanton. I was physically back to normal, though I did become short of breath on occasion. Besides, the colonel had never apologized to me for capturing me, nor had I received any apology for the killing of my brother...not that it would make any difference.  
I spent the morning laying in bed alone. I pulled open the drapes, hoping to let some sunlight in, but it was still raining heavily. I peered out into the gloom and saw that there were large ruts and muddy puddles forming in the dirt pathway that lead from the wooden gate up to the mansion.  
I heard a knock on the door and scuttled back to my bed, pulling the covers high over my chest. "Come in," I called. I was now able to speak without coughing.  
The door opened, and in walked Abigail. She looked out the window and made a face.  
"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" I asked her, jokingly.  
"Only if you're a duck!" she retorted.  
I laughed, and she walked to my bedside. She felt my forehead, which was no longer hot and perspiring.  
"You certainly seem better today," she said, pleased with my recovery.  
"Yes, I feel better," I replied.  
"Hmmm...you may be able to get out of bed and walk around the mansion a bit...I'll fetch Dr. Stanton and send him up to have a look at you."  
She turned and exited the room, and within a few minutes she returned with the doctor.  
"Well, hello Miss. Peterson," said Dr. Stanton. "Abigail tells me you've improved greatly."  
"Yes sir. I was hoping maybe I would be able to get out of bed today," I stated hopefully.  
"We'll see."  
Dr. Stanton walked to my bedside and used his instrument to listen to my breathing once again. He felt my forehead and cheeks, as Abigail had done, and nodded. He gave me a small smile, and though it seemed forced, I was thankful for it.  
"Yes well, I think that today you are well enough to get dressed and go downstairs a bit. No work for at least a week, though. I'll inform Colonel Tavington for you."  
"Thank you, sir," I said, although Abigail could have given me the same exact information.  
Dr. Stanton turned to Abigail, as though he had read my thoughts. She was standing near the door quietly, no doubt hoping not to be thrown out of my room, as she had been the last time Dr. Stanton had examined me.  
"You help her getting dressed and down the stairs and such, in case she becomes short of breath. And if any of her symptoms return, I want to hear it from you right away. Do you understand?"  
Abigail nodded, but from her eyes I could tell that she despised Dr. Stanton. He spoke to her as though she was a child, and for that I did not like him very much myself. And I could not forget how he had acted like I wasn't even there the night he had come to examine me.  
He left the room and Abigail walked over to me.  
"Well, that's good news. I have to say you were quite a sickly little thing that first night you came here."  
"Thank you Abigail," I finally said what was already long overdue.  
"For what?" she asked me, confused.  
"For helping me so much. For becoming my friend."  
She waved her hand as if to say that it was nothing, but it really was. If I was ever going to survive here, I would need her help. I had nearly given up on my plans of escape. Even if I could get away, where would I go? And with winter fast approaching, my hopes had been nearly dashed.  
"I'll be right back," said Abigail, hurrying off for something.  
I got out of bed and stretched. It was good to be able to move around. I could never stand to sit still, even for brief measures of time.  
Abigail returned, clutching a dress and shoes.  
"These are for you," she said. "They used to be mine, but I've since outgrown them." She chuckled, placing one hand on her round belly.  
I looked at her questioningly. "Abigail...do you have a family?" I asked, trying not to sound nosy.  
She grinned. "I have a husband. He works in the kitchens. And as for a family, there's one well on its way." She patted her stomach once again.  
"Oh, Abigail! It never occurred to me!"  
"Well, you were sick, and why would you have thought to ask?"  
"I wouldn't have, I suppose," I admitted, shrugging.  
"Of course you wouldn't," she said. "Now, I want you to have these. You can keep them if you wish. I very much doubt they will fit me again, even after I have this baby."  
She held out a pair of black leather shoes, shined to perfection, and a deep red dress with lace trimming the collar and the elbow length sleeves. It was otherwise quite simple, but very beautiful.  
"Thank you," I breathed rather than said. "Abigail, you have been so kind to me. How am I ever going to repay you?"  
"Well," she said, thinking. "After I have this baby, you can help me take care of it, for starters. They have lots of doctors around here, so unless there is an emergency, I don't think they'll really need your medical services anymore."  
"How did you know that was my job?" I asked her.  
"Colonel Tavington told me. Said you took a good look at some muscle injury of his. Spoke quite highly of you, actually, which is a lot coming from him."  
"Is he really as awful as they say he is?" I asked.  
"Well, he can be, but I don't think that's who he really is. He can be a bear of a man, but on the whole he's always treated me with respect, which is not something women around here encounter very often. Some of these men, like that Captain Williams, are real brutes."  
I nodded in agreement.  
"Well," said Abigail, looking around my room, which had grown quite disorderly from my visitor's comings and goings. "You go on down the hall and wash up and I'll straighten things up in here."  
I nodded, and left the room, clutching the dress and shoes under one arm. I hurried down the hall, afraid that one of the men would catch me in naught but my nightdress, but fortunately the hallway was, for the time being, deserted.  
I found the washroom and cleaned up, washing away the stench that always accompanied illness. When I was satisfied that I was as clean as I was going to get, I got out of the tub. A soft warm towel was waiting for me, and after drying myself off, I got dressed. My undergarments from the first camp had been cleaned and pressed flat, and were waiting for me. I made a mental note to thank Abigail once again for all that she had done for me, as, undoubtedly, it had been she who had taken care of my things.  
I brushed the knots out of me long golden red hair and pulled it back into a long braid. I still, amazingly, had the leather cord that I had grabbed from the dressing table the last night I was in my home. I sighed sadly, thinking of the dreadful events of that evening.  
You have to stop this, I thought sternly. You cannot keep thinking about it if it only worsens your mood.  
I gazed into the mirror and, satisfied with my appearance, I left the washroom and returned to my own quarters. Abigail had made the bed and put the book that Colonel Tavington had brought me, which I had scarcely touched, on the small table next to my bed. The drapes were pulled open evenly and even though I had only been out of it for a few moments, my room seemed to be entirely made over.  
Abigail smiled at me, eyeing me from head to foot. "You look very nice," she said finally. "That color suits you. You have such fair skin."  
"Yes, it always burns dreadfully in the summer," I said, feeling my cheek self consciously.  
"Do you want to go downstairs?" asked Abigail, walking up to me. "They'll be serving supper about now."  
"Can you join me?" I asked hopefully.  
"No, I'm afraid not," she said, looking quite downcast. "I have to get back to my chores. Don't fret though, I'll get my food later on."  
I nodded. "Very well."  
Abigail and I exited my room, shutting the door behind us and made our way for the stairs. There were footsteps approaching us, and we moved aside. Captain Williams himself made his way up the stairs, scowling all the while. He glared at me when he reached us.  
"Feeling better?" he asked, but his voice relayed no form of concern.  
"I'm very well, thank you," I answered curtly.  
He rolled his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning upward in a sneer. Then he turned away from us and walked on. As soon as he was out of earshot, Abigail looked at me, scowling.  
"Horrible man! Just horrible!" she muttered, shaking her head.  
She took my arm and helped me down the stairs. The entryway doors were wide open and a large group of muddy soldiers were entering, leaving a dirty trail behind them. Just as we were leaving on our way to the dining hall, Colonel Tavington entered. He was not dirty like the rest of the men, probably because it was he who had been giving the orders. Abigail explained to me that the men were simply being trained, new recruits for the British Army.  
"Don't worry," she said, grinning. "They won't be eating with you."  
"Who will I be eating with?" I asked, curiously. Surely a captured girl was of a lower status than a British soldier.  
"You'll be eating with me," came a voice from behind me. I turned to face Colonel Tavington, his blue eyes sparkling. He was smiling, which confused me a bit, but he did seem genuinely happy to see me.  
"With you, sir?" I asked. Abigail had left my side, most likely to go and tend to her other chores, and I suddenly felt terribly alone and somewhat intimidated in front of the notorious Colonel Tavington.  
"Yes," he answered. The doctor told me you were back on your feet, so I decided to invite you to dinner with myself and the other officers. A few other women will be eating with us, so you needn't feel out of place. Many of the men bring their wives to the mansion here for safety."  
"Ah," I said. That made sense. "And you just assumed that I would accept your invitation?" I was simply teasing him, but he looked somewhat disappointed, so I quickly added, "I do accept, by the way."  
"Good," he said. "I'm glad. I've had a rotten day training the recruits. A sorry bunch, they are!"  
I nodded, not sure how to comment. Then I remember the afternoon before, and our awkward argument, if one could even call it that.  
"Sir, please allow me to apologize for yesterday. I was feeling quite depressed, and you were only trying to be kind." I added silently that it would have been kind for him to have left my family alone.  
"It's been long since forgotten, Miss. Peterson," he said. "Though I did give it some thought last night, and I can understand why you might not have wanted to spend the afternoon making small talk with your captor."  
I considered this, and replied simply, "Now I can make small talk with my captor over dinner."  
Colonel Tavington smiled. "Yes, I suppose so..."  
"Don't worry about it," I said, smiling at him.  
"I wasn't." He extended an arm, which I took, and we walked into the dining hall. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: Dinner with the Officers  
  
The dining hall was a large room with fine, dark wood furniture and beautiful silver placed carefully on the long table. Lord General Cornwallis himself sat at the head of the table. Colonel Tavington lead me past the questioning stares of several seated officers, to the end of the table opposite the Lord General.  
He took a seat near the head of the table. Then, reconsidering this, he rose again and pulled out the chair next to him.  
"Thank you," I said, sitting. He pushed the chair in gently, then took his seat next to me once again.  
"These dinners are always so dull," he said, glumly.  
I nodded, not knowing what to say. I gazed about the room, in awe. I had never seen anything so fancy, and it amazed me that the British were still living this well while Colonial soldiers in the North were freezing to death. I returned my stare to the table, and the men around me. I looked to Colonel Tavington and was startled to see his bright blue eyes staring back at me.  
"What?" I asked, shifting in my seat. Being watched always made me uncomfortable, particularly by such a strong and imposing man.  
"Nothing," he said. "I was just trying to figure out what you were thinking about."  
I stared at him, puzzled. "Why would it matter?" I asked. I could not imagine why Colonel Tavington would even care what I was thinking about.  
He shrugged. "It doesn't really," he said, feigning apathy. "You're just difficult to read, and I am not used to people who don't look terrified around me."  
"I just don't let you intimidate me," I lied, hoping that he couldn't tell how nervous I really was in his presence.  
Suddenly, a large group of men and women wearing clean pressed white aprons entered the room, carrying large silver platters, which they proceeded to place in front of each of us.  
I stared down at the several sets of silverware in front of me. I had no idea which to use, so I simply sat there as a waiter placed a large salad in front of me.  
"These are the last of our fresh vegetables," Colonel Tavington informed me. Then, as if noticing my distress, he added, "I always start with the utensils farthest from the plate."  
I nodded, sighing in relief. "Thank you," I whispered. "I didn't grow up in quite this fancy an environment."  
He chuckled softly. "I'm used to it. My family was very aristocratic, so this is normal life for me."  
I nodded, trying to picture Colonel Tavington with a family, or as a child. Try as I might, I couldn't conjure the images in my mind. He seemed so constant, as though he had been born a strong willed adult, prepared to kill whenever the need arose. My thoughts strayed to my brother, Nathan. I wondered where he was. I wondered if he knew where I was, or that John was dead. Surely if he knew of our situation he would hasten here as soon as possible. And yet, after nearly three days in the mansion, I had heard nothing of him.  
I was about to ask Colonel Tavington if any word had come from my brother, but another man, sitting next to Colonel Tavington initiated a conversation first.  
"You seem awfully quiet, miss," he said, and I couldn't notice that he seemed to be sneering at me.  
"I have nothing to say," I answered simply.  
He nodded, then continued. "I am General O'Hara. And what is your name?"  
I cleared my throat. "My name is Charlotte Peterson," I said, introducing myself.  
"Ah, yes," he said. "I've heard about you." He laughed a little. "Our young captive, no doubt."  
"Yes, sir," I answered. "Regrettably so." I looked away, not wanting to make small talk with General O'Hara. I was not interested in what he had to say. My stare drifted to the seat directly from me and I jumped a bit in my seat.  
My eyes had met the cold stare of Captain Williams. He had a woman next to him, about my age. She had long black hair and amber colored eyes, and was staring up at him lovingly, leaning into him. I looked to her wine glass. It was empty, and from her glazed look, had been refilled and drunk again several times. However, Captain Williams didn't seem to notice her presence. Instead he stared at me, thoughtfully.  
I squirmed in my seat, once again uncomfortable. I needed to get out of there. I suddenly felt paranoid, as though everyone was staring at me, malcontent evident in their eyes. I turned to Colonel Tavington, who was staring off into space. He looked dreadfully bored.  
"Sir," I said. "I am feeling a bit feverish. Perhaps I should get some air?"  
He nodded. "Yes, I'll go with you."  
"Oh no," I said a little too quickly. "I mean, I'm sure I'll be alright."  
He smiled, then leaned in to whisper something to me. "I'd do anything to get away from these buffoons!"  
I nodded. The colonel excused us both, saying simply that he was taking me to get some air, and we left the dining hall together. I could not help but feel the eyes of several soldiers following me.  
Finally, we left the room and went into the hallway. I moved to go through the front door, but the colonel took my arm.  
"There's a back door," he explained. "We can go through there and walk in the fields if you like."  
"Very well," I said. We walked down the hallway and out a door at the end of it. We emerged from the stuffy building and into the cool night air. The sun had set and the clouds had cleared, so the stars were clear and bright in the sky.  
"We shouldn't stay out too long," he said. "You are still not completely well."  
I agreed. Then, sensing the opportunity to ask about my brother, I said, "Have you heard from my brother Nathan?"  
Colonel Tavington sighed. "Miss Peterson, perhaps we had best discuss this later."  
"You've been saying that for days," I observed. "Please. Whatever it is, I have a right to know." I hated pleading with him, but if I ever wanted to know what was going on, it was the only way.  
"Miss Peterson," Colonel Tavington began. "I have received word from the Colonials-that is what you call them, correct? I always refer to them as the rebels."  
"Yes, and stop changing the subject," I said. He was obviously avoiding the subject.  
"Right well, I have received word that your brother and a band of his men have fled North."  
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.  
"Miss Peterson," said the colonel gravely. "Your brother has deserted. He won't be coming to get you because he doesn't even know you've been captured."  
And in that moment, my world, as it was, stopped. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: Changes

For a long time, Colonel Tavington and I simply stared at one another. I could not believe what he had just told me. I tried to picture Nathan. He did not know that John was dead. He did not know that our house had been burnt down. He did no know that I had been captured. He did not know where our mother and sister's were. He was a deserter. Many men did it, but somehow I could not imagine my own brother abandoning the Patriot cause that he had believed in and supported so strongly.

I looked at Colonel Tavington. He was looking at me with an expectant look on his face, as though he were waiting for me to say something in response to his announcement. But what could I say? My brother, my only hope, was not coming.

"Perhaps you would like to be alone," said Colonel Tavington. I jumped at the sound of his voice. Even though he was standing right in front of me, I felt as though I was all alone in the vast fields behind the mansion.

I nodded with some effort, and the colonel took my arm. We walked back into the mansion and he lead me upstairs and to my room. He held the door open for me and as I walked in, he put a hand on my shoulder.

I turned and stared at him. My vision was blurred by tears, and I prayed that he could not tell how upset I was. I wondered for a moment why I was so upset. I was not being treated badly at the mansion. In fact, Colonel Tavington seemed to be quite caring behind his rough exterior. Then I rethought that and felt horrible. The reason that I was upset was the frightening thought that was constantly in the back of my head. The thought that I would never see my mother and sisters again. I now knew that I would never see my brother again. If the war ended he would have to return to the colonies in shame, and Nathan simply would not do that.

I felt the colonel's hand on my shoulder again, and I looked up into his glowing blue eyes.

"Charlotte," he said, as though he had something more he had to tell me.

I stared up at him. "Yes, Colonel?" I asked him.

He squeezed my shoulder softly. "Nothing," he said, removing his hand. He stared at it as though it had changed somehow by touching me. "Goodnight."

He turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him. I grabbed the key that Abigail had given me and locked the door. I did not want to see anyone. I went to my bed. Abigail had laid out my nightgown and robe for me. They were clean now, and once again, I made a mental note to thank her. I set them aside and fell on my back on the soft mattress. I breathed deeply, sighing. I could still feel a dull pain in my chest, the final remnants of my bought with bronchitis.

My tears stopped and I thought about my situation. There was no way that I could escape now, not with winter approaching. Harsh cold air blew in from the coast and it was impossible to survive without shelter.

And then I wondered once again, if I was really that upset about staying at the mansion. In some ways, I was better off there than I was at home. I was well provided for, and I had Abigail. And even though it was too difficult for me to admit it to myself, I definitely felt something for Colonel Tavington. However, that would never change the fact that I had a family out there somewhere, and I knew that at least my mother and sisters had to be concerned about me.

I head a knock at the door.

"Go away!" I called, not even caring who it was.

"It's Dr. Stanton!" came the reply.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, confused. I grabbed my key and opened the door for him.

"A small party of men went out on raids tonight," he said. "They met up with some of your colonial friends." He sneered at this, trying as hard as he could to show me that he had no respect for the Patriot cause. "I need your medical assistance for some of the more minor injuries.

I returned to my room some time around midnight. My hair was in disarray. I was wearing a white apron, which was stained with blood. I was exhausted.

After Dr. Stanton had come to my room, we had gone downstairs and outside into the large medical tent behind the mansion, where all of the injured men were. Most of the beds were filled. I had treated several muscle injuries, a couple of head injuries, and a few cuts. There had been worse though. One man had taken a bullet to the leg and it had been my job to hold him down while Dr. Stanton performed an amputation just below the man's knee.

I had never seen such a thing before, and I nearly sickened right there. I simply kept muttering to myself more than the patient, "It's going to be alright," over and over again. I would never forget the man's screams.

I changed into my nightgown and laid down on my bed. Just a few hours ago, I had been in the same position, and now I found myself thinking of the same things. I shoved all thoughts of my brother, of escape, and of my family aside, for my own sake. I pulled the covers up over my body, still shaking at the mere thought of what I had seen in the medical tent. Somehow, sleep took me. Thankfully, I had no dreams that night.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: A Morning at the Mansion

I awoke late the next morning. The sunlight was pouring in through my window, and in the light, the room look somewhat cheerful.

I got out of bed and looked around for something to wear. I found, at the foot of the bed, a dark green dress, simpler than the red one that Abigail had given me, but still beautiful. Attached to the dress was a small note, which read:

"Dear Charlotte,

Here is yet another dress that won't fit my growing belly! Please wear it. I have tons of dresses like it that won't fit around me anymore, and I am more than willing to share!

Abigail"

I smiled and quickly put on my undergarments. Then I slipped into the dress, which fit quite well. I put on my shoes and braided my hair. After dressing, I quickly made my bed and left the room. I wanted to see Abigail. I needed someone to confide in, or the events of the previous night would surely drive me mad!

I went down the stairs and into the hall. The hall was a large room with fluffy British made couches and chairs and intricately carven tables. There were a few high ranking officers milling about, but they paid me no mind. I probably assumed I was just another servant girl.

I walked through the hall, gazing about for Abigail. Finally, I spotted a woman with a somewhat large midriff and hurried over. Abigail was wearing a scarf over her messy hair and looked incredibly tired.

"Oh, Charlotte, you're up," she said. She sighed, putting a hand on her lower back.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

"Oh, of course," she said, waving her hand. "I'm just a little tired. Working and being with child at the same time is not as easy as it looks." She chuckled a little.

"I'm sure it not," I said. I couldn't imagine doing all that hard work and carrying another little person inside of me all at once. "How far along are you?"

"Oh," she said, thoughtfully. "I've still got about two months to go." She patted her stomach and sighed. "Only two months…"

"You know, I would never have known it when I first met you," I said. I still could not believe that this petite little woman was going to have a baby.

"Well, the doc says the baby's going to be small, because I'm small," she said, sighing.

"Abigail, why don't you go rest in my room?" I asked. "Surely you don't need to be doing all of this work. I can do it."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. Then, as though rethinking my offer, she asked, "Do you really think I could?"

"Of course," I answered. "Go ahead. I'll see you later." So much for talking about my situation.

"Thank you so much," Abigail said. She handed me her apron and her dust cloth and began to walk away. Then she turned, and said, "Oh by the way, Colonel Tavington has been complaining about that muscle he hurt a couple days back. He said you looked at it, so if you get a chance, try and go check on him."

I nodded. "I'll go see him as soon as I finish dusting in here. Now go rest."

She gave me one last smile and left the hall.

I went through the hall with Abigail's dust cloth, cleaning around everything. I was not really trying that hard. Really, I just wanted to get the job done. Besides, these were soldiers. Somehow I doubted that cleanliness was all that important to them.

When I was finished, I stuffed the dust cloth into the pocket in the apron Abigail had given me, and took off for the medical tents outside. Just as I had suspected, Colonel Tavington was sitting on one of the cots.

"What took you so long?" he asked. "I told Abigail to send you out here."

"Well, I was doing some other work," I said, more harshly than I had meant to.

He threw up his hands. "Alright, alright. You kept me waiting, though."

"I'm sure you'll live," I said.

"Well," said Colonel Tavington. "You're in a fine mood this morning."

I ignored his comment. "What's wrong, anyway?"

"It's that damned muscle thing again," he said. "I can't ride because the movement hurts."

"Well then don't ride," I said.

"Charlotte, I don't have an hour to go round with you about this! Just look at it!" He yelled.

"Fine," I said. "Lift your shirt up."

He did, and I looked at the area where he was complaining of pain. There was a large bruised area, which was now visible. I thought of what could be wrong with the muscle now.

"Did you injure it again after the first time?" I asked him.

"Not that I know of," he answered, no longer angry.

I nodded. "Well, my diagnosis hasn't changed at all, but the prognosis has," I said. "I don't want you riding for at least a week. You need to take it easy."

Colonel Tavington let out a heavy sigh as he lowered his shirt back over his toned stomach. "Damn," he stated simply.

"Don't shoot the messenger," I said simply.

"Perhaps you should take your own advice," he retorted.

I glared at him.

"Anyway," he said, as though he were leading up to something.

"What?" I asked.

"There's a stupid dinner this evening. A bunch of the high ranking officers thought it was a good idea to bring their wives over. Damned if I know why." He chuckled.

"Stop cursing," I scolded. Then, rethinking it, I said, "Sorry. I'm used to telling my brothers not to curse."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Anyway, the point was that I have no one to go with to this dinner, but I am supposed to bring a date, according to Lord General Cornwallis. Lord only knows why he cares if we arrive in pairs, but he does. So, would you be interested in going?"

I thought about it for a moment. I started to say no, but then thought better of it. What would I be doing otherwise? Sulking in my room? Besides, if I played my cards right, Colonel Tavington could be me escape from captivity.

"Yes," I conceded. "I will go with you."

I couldn't help but notice as he left the tent, that Colonel Tavington was positively glowing.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Preparations

That evening, Abigail met me in my room to help me get ready for the dinner with Colonel Tavington.

"You know," she said. "A lot of pretty young girls have come through here, but I don't think Colonel Tavington has ever favored one of them like you."

"I'm sure there's nothing to it," I answered her, even though I too was wondering why the colonel had been so nice to me.

"Well, you just think that," Abigail said, smiling.

"What am I supposed to wear to this thing?" I asked her. I had never been to any type of fancy dinner or ball in my life. My father had thrown a few lavish parties with his Loyalist friends, but my brothers and sisters and I had always been excluded.

"Oh, don't you worry about that!" Abigail said, grinning. "I have just the thing for you!"

"What is it?" I asked her, unable to hide the fact that I was actually looking forward to the dinner.

"I'll be right back with it," said Abigail, scuttling towards the door. "In the meantime, you just concentrate on combing the knots out of that hair!"

I nodded, and she left to retrieve the dress that was supposedly "just the thing" for me. I untied the leather cord that was wrapped around the end of my braid and began raking my fingers through my hair. There were several tangles throughout it, and I realized that I had not bothered to comb it during the last few days.

The door flew open and Abigail entered, carrying the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen. It was made out of a deep purple satin, with tiny lavender flowers embroidered on the skirt. Lace trimmed the collar and the hems of the elbow-length sleeves.

"Abigail!" I cried, rushing over to her. "How…where…?" I was so shocked that I couldn't even finish my sentences.

"I came from a relatively wealthy family," Abigail explained. "When I was captured, the British soldiers took many things of value, including some of my finer clothes. The ones I've been lending you up until now are things I've gotten since I came to the mansion, but this one was mine before I was captured. I guess none of the soldiers wanted to wear purple, so instead of cutting it up and making vests and jackets, they returned it to me." Abigail chuckled. "They're very proper like that."

"How old were you when you were captured?" I asked Abigail.

"Well," she said, thinking. "I'm twenty-three now….I got married last year…I'd have to have been about twenty when I was captured. I was living at home because my first husband had been killed in the war…" Her voice trailed off, and I decided that it would be best if I avoided the subject of her first husband.

"I'm nineteen," I said.

She nodded. "I was nineteen when I got married the first time," she said thoughtfully. "Oh well, that was quite a while ago, now wasn't it?"

I thought for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry Abigail. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't you fret about it now," she said, shrugging. "I suppose from time to time I probably should remember my life before all of this…"

"Probably," I said, trying to imagine Abigail wealthy and married to a soldier. "But I am sorry about your husband."

"Yes, well, I am too," she said, shaking her head. "War is never good. But I do love Peter…that's my husband now."

For a moment we both just sat in silence, thinking about how our lives had been before we had been captured by the British army. I knew that my life, even if I did escape, would never be the same. Not after my brother's death, and my other brother's abandonment of his troops.

"Anyway," said, Abigail, suddenly popping out of her thoughts. "You've got a fancy dress to get into!"

"Do you think it will fit?" I asked her, worriedly glancing at the slender waist of the dress.

"Oh, of course it will," she said with a wave of her hand. "You're a bit taller than me, but you're pretty slim. And you're a mite smaller now than you were when you first got here."

I nodded, taking her word for it. She handed me the gown and I slipped out of the dress I had been wearing all day. I was wearing my undergarments, and Abigail was another woman, so I didn't really care that she was in the room. I pulled the purple dress over my head. Self-consciously, I turned to Abigail.

"How does it look?" I asked her, nervously.

"Oh, honey, you're going to be the bell of the ball!" Abigail gushed.

"Abigail, I'm serious!" I said.

"So am I!" Abigail argued. "You look lovely!"

"Thank you," I said, still not completely convinced.

"Now, let's do something with that hair!" Abigail said, revealing a silver hair comb with a small purple jewel in it.

I turned around, completely entrusting my hair to Abigail. I could feel her twisting little bits of hair and pinning them up. Finally, after she had done this to all of my hair, she put the comb in.

"Here," she said, taking a small hand mirror out of her pocket.

"You certainly came prepared," I said, marveling at how many fine things Abigail possessed.

"You bet your britches I did," she replied.

I looked into the mirror. As much as I hated to admit it, I was astonished at my own appearance.

"Now, your little dinner should be starting up pretty soon, so why don't you head on downstairs. The high ranking officers are always the first ones there, so I'm sure Colonel Tavington will be waiting for you." She smiled at me. "You know, as awful as he can be, he really is a fine man, and can be quite the gentleman when he wants to be."

I grinned at Abigail and walked to the door. When I reached the doorway, I turned back to look at Abigail once again. She was already gathering up her things, no doubt off to spend the evening with her husband, once he was done with his work in the kitchens. I felt a sudden pang of guilt realizing that I was being treated so well, while a pregnant Abigail was forced to do manual labor daily, and her husband was cooking the food that I ate.

As though sensing my hesitance, Abigail looked up. She smiled. "Don't you worry about me," she said. "You go on and have fun." She turned back to her things.

"Abigail," I said.

She looked up.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: The Dinner

I made my way down the stairs. I felt somewhat clumsy and self-conscious in the dress that Abigail had lent me, and I knew that some of the men were eyeing me, most likely out of curiosity. Most of them still didn't know who I was.

Colonel Tavington was waiting at the bottom of the staircase for me. He extended an arm, which I took, gratefully.

He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "You look very nice."

I smiled, and could feel my pale cheeks blushing crimson. "Thank you," I said. "Um, you look nice also."

I hadn't really noticed his attire until then, but I looked him up and down to see whether he really did look nice or not. He was wearing his usual army uniform, with a green vest and some green trim on his jacket, because he was a Dragoon. His hair was pulled back neatly and he looked clean shaven. His blue eyes twinkled.

We walked along avoiding the stares of curious onlookers. There were several women milling about, most escorted by a soldier, like myself. They were Loyalist women, no doubt. Several shot flirtatious glances and sweet smiles at Colonel Tavington, and then sneered at me. Obviously, the colonel was the object of many women's affection, and I couldn't stop myself from wondering how many of them he had ever escorted to dinners such as this.

We entered the dining hall, and I was amazed by how different it looked compared to when I had last been in it. A long, silky white tablecloth covered the table. There were new candles burning everywhere, casting a golden glow about the room. Center pieces of dried flowers and multicolored fall leaves were scattered along the table.

"Who did all this decorating?" I asked Colonel Tavington.

"I'm not really sure, I'm afraid…" he admitted.

"Oh," I answered. I was somewhat disappointed that Colonel Tavington was oblivious to the daily lives of his captives, except, it seemed, for my own.

"So, um…" he said, shifting on his feet, uncomfortably. "I never really know what to do at these things…"

"I've never been to anything like this," I admitted. "So I'm sure you have a better idea of what to do than I do."

"Right, well…they'll be serving dinner for the officers and their, um, guests soon, so we can go ahead and be seated."

I nodded. "Very well."

We walked along the long table until we found the same seats that we had occupied the last time we ate dinner together. I was disappointed to see that Captain Williams was still sitting in the seat across from me. He was leering at a girl, about my age, with long dark hair and pale skin. He had one arm over her shoulder, his hand lingering close to her breast. She had a dazed look on her face, as though she wasn't really aware of what was going on around her. I noticed the empty glass in front of her. There was a sort of murky white film around the brim. I made a mental note to never drink anything offered to me by Captain Williams.

Soon there were large silver platters of food placed in front of us. The dinner for the night was chicken, and a variety of vegetables. I picked around at it, absentmindedly.

"Is your food alright?" asked Colonel Tavington.

"Oh, yes, it's wonderful," I said. "I'm just still not very hungry. I think maybe it's from being sick before…" It was true that I hadn't been hungry since I had been ill, but I think it was mostly because I was constantly worried and on edge in the mansion. I was always thinking, planning in the back of my head. I could not assume that I was always going to be treated with such hospitality. In fact, I had never expected it in the first place.

I sat in silence for a while. Colonel Tavington was discussing raids with General O'Hara. Occasionally, I looked up at the poor girl sitting next to Captain Williams and wondered what, if anything, was going through her head. I pitied her, and had I not been so afraid of Captain Williams, I would have scurried around the table, taken her hand, and got her out of there, and away from him. The fact that I was too terrified of Captain Williams to do anything made me feel like a coward.

Suddenly, Colonel Tavington spoke to me again. "You look bored," he said. He wore a teasing smile on his face.

I shrugged. "Maybe a little," I admitted.

"If you're done eating, we can leave," he said.

I took advantage of the fact that the colonel seemed to want out of the dining hall just as much as I did, and we left. We headed out into the crowded hall.

"Do you want to go outside where it's not so crowded?" asked Colonel Tavington.

"Yes, I'd like that," I said.

We left through the back door, as we had the night he had informed me of my brother's desertion. The sky was sprinkled with bright, glowing stars, and the full moon made things light. We stood alone in the field, the only people outside.

"Thank you for coming to this thing with me," said Colonel Tavington.

"Your welcome," I said. Then, thinking, I said, "I wasn't quite sure why you invited me in the first place."

He didn't answer my question, but instead, said, "Well, do you want to go for a walk?"

"Alright," I answered.

We walked along through the fields, in silence. We passed a long while like that, just walking, not saying anything. It was oddly intimate, just walking through the fields with no one else around. It started getting cold, so Colonel Tavington took off his coat and put it around my shoulders.

"Thank you," I said.

"Your welcome. It this cold air going to make your cough bad again?"

"I don't think so. I feel fine," I answered.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked me. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me so that I was facing him. I had to look up to make eye contact with him.

"What?" I asked, feeling suddenly conspicuous.

"I admire you," he said.

"For what?" I asked, laughing nervously.

"For…for being so strong. I realize you've been through a lot, and I know I do little to help…I…I'm not a very emotional man, but I just wanted you to know that."

"Thank you…" I laughed. "You're not drunk, are you?"

He chuckled, a big loud laugh. "No, I only had a glass of wine."

"I'm glad," I said. "I was afraid maybe you didn't mean it."

"No, Char-I mean, Miss Peterson, I meant it."

"You can call me Charlotte," I told him.

"Very well. And, when not in the presence of my superiors, you may call me William."

I nodded. Then, impulsively, I asked a question that had been on my mind for the entire evening.

"Colonel, I mean William," I smiled as I said his name. "Are you married?"

He was quiet for a long time, and then answered, "No. I was engaged once, but things didn't go as we had planned. I suppose I'm not an easy man for a woman to contend with."

I laughed. "Perhaps not."

By that time we had made it through the field and back to the mansion. The crowds in the hallway seemed to have dispersed and we walked to the base of the stairs. Colonel Tavington took my hand and raised it to his lips. Quite awkwardly, he kissed it.

"Well, goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight…" I mumbled.

He turned and walked away, and I made my way up the stairs.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Author's Note: I realize that this chapter used to be chapter thirteen, but it was meant to be fourteen! Somehow I managed to write a chapter about Charlotte's dinner with the colonel and then not upload it! I am really sorry about that, but it is up now, so please check it out! Thank you, as always, for reading, and for your patience!

Chapter Fourteen:

Once I had reached my room, I changed quickly out of Abigail's dress. As beautiful as it was, it was still not very comfortable. I put on my nightgown on and sat down on my bed, contemplating all of the events that had unfolded since my capture.

I couldn't decide how I felt about Colonel Tavington. I had started out his prisoner, and I had hated him for it. But the longer I was around him, and the more he treated me as though I were a real human being, I couldn't help but feel somewhat attracted to him.

Abigail had said that once you got past the brute on the outside, and gotten to know the man on the inside, Colonel Tavington was a rather likeable person. I accepted that. The only thing that worried me was that I was afraid I might grow to do more than just like Colonel Tavington.

I heard a knock on my door. "Who is it?" I called.

"It's Abigail," came the reply. I smiled. I had expected this. Even though Abigail had her own life to tend to, she always managed to show up when I needed her.

"Come in," I called, no longer caring whether or not she saw me in naught but me nightgown.

She opened the door and entered, her swollen belly leading the way into my room.

"Well?" she asked, eagerly.

"Well what?" I said, even though I knew perfectly well what she was asking.

"Well how was dinner with the colonel?" Abigail urged.

"It was…" I thought about it. "Honestly, it was sort of awkward," I admitted.

"Really? How so?"

"Well…I don't know. It just seemed like we didn't really know what to talk about, so we sort of…oh, I don't know, Abigail! How was your evening?"

Abigail laughed at me, and then answered, "Other than the pain I am having in my back, my evening was quite lovely, thank you. I stayed in my room and rested for a while."

"You didn't get bored?" I teased.

"No," she answered, thoughtfully. "When you're pregnant, nothing is boring anymore. I'm sure it'll be even worse once I have the little thing." She patted her stomach lovingly.

"You look tired," I said, noticing the black circles under her eyes.

"I am," she admitted. "The baby never stops moving. It keeps me up at night. My poor husband keeps doing whatever he can to help, even staying up at night with me, but nothing helps."

I nodded, sympathetically.

She eyed me for a moment, and then said, "I'm not the only one who looks tired tonight."

I smiled. "What time is it?" I asked her.

"Very late. Past midnight, I think. I heard someone coming up the stairs, an it sounded like they stopped at your room, so I figured I would come over and see if it was you. I may go back to bed, though."

"You probably should," I advised.

She nodded. "Alright then. Goodnight, Charlotte." She turned and headed to the doorway. Just before she left the room, she turned around to face me once again, and said, "Oh, and Charlotte. Don't worry so much about things with the colonel. I have known him a while, and I see things."

And with that one thought provoking sentence, she left my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the still unfamiliar walls that surrounded me.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Author's Note: Once again a short chapter, and for that I am sorry! These last few chapters have sort of been filler chapters, helping me build up to what I consider to be a major event. It should be picking up again though, within the next couple of chapters! Oh, and if you hadn't heard about my "missing chapter" yet, the correct chapter thirteen is now up, followed by chapter fourteen, which you may have already read! Once again, my sincerest apologies for any confusion that mistake may have created ( know I was confused!)!

Chapter Fifteen: The Colonel's Problem

I awoke early the next morning and dressed quickly. After tying my long hair into a haphazard braid, I hurried downstairs. I found Abigail in the hall, but she was not working.

She smiled when she saw me.

"They've finally let me take some time off," she informed me. "At the request of my husband." She looked pleased at this.

"How long?" I asked her, taking a seat next to her in one of the chairs. She was sitting on a small love seat with large, overstuffed cushions.

"Well, I'm not sure, exactly. After the baby is born I will have to take care of it…" She glanced up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "There's going to be so much to do…sometimes I feel overwhelmed just thinking about it."

I put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure everything will be fine, Abigail," I told her, reassuringly.

She nodded. "I hope so."

After chatting for a while in the hall, I convinced Abigail, who still looked horribly tired, to go up to her room and get some rest. Reluctantly, she trudged slowly up the stairs, and I did not take my eyes off her until I had made sure that she was safely inside her room.

After that I did not know what to do. I walked back to the hall, but it was busy and stuffy. I felt very uncomfortable there, and several soldiers were always lurking about, giving the women longing glances.

I resolved to go outside and walked out through the back door that the colonel and I had left through the previous evening. When I got outside, I was surprised to see William sitting on the ground, looking tired and annoyed.

I walked over to him, not sure whether or not I should say anything.

He turned and looked at me. "What?" he asked, angrily.

"Nothing," I answered. "I was just going for a walk."

"You've not been given permission to wander the estate on your own," he stated simply.

"Nor have I been ordered not to," I pointed out, boldly.

He nodded. "No, I suppose not." He stood up, looking me up and down. I could tell from the look in his eyes that something was troubling him.

"What is it?" I asked, hoping that I wasn't overstepping our boundaries by making inquiries into what were probably personal affairs.

However, instead of yelling at me, or getting upset, the colonel simply said, "I am having a bad day."

"Oh," I answered, not really sure how to react. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm not sure," he answered, shrugging. He seemed to be trying to decide whether to tell me what was wrong or not. "You see, I've sort of been, well, worried about something lately."

"Well, do you want to talk about it?" I asked him, curiously.

He said nothing for a moment, just stared at me. I had never seen him look at me in such a way, his blue eyes sparkling, and a small smile forming on his lips. Perhaps Abigail was right about Colonel Tavington. Perhaps there really was a decent man beneath all of his anger and brutality.

Finally, he spoke again. "Charlotte, I want you to know that this is very difficult for me to say."

I nodded. "I understand, Col-"

He cut me off. "William," he corrected. "And let me say this, or I may never try to again."

I almost said something, but then caught my self, allowing him to speak.

"You see, I have a problem. A few weeks back, I captured this girl from a plantation. And…well, right off, we didn't exactly get along, because she had been taken from her family, and her brother had died. But I never saw a woman so strong. Then, later, I had to tell her that her brother had deserted and fled north, which was like telling her that her only hope of escape was gone. And once again, she handled the situation better than anyone I could ever imagine. And, well, the longer I am around this woman, the more I am finding myself attracted to her." He paused and took a deep breath. He eyed, me, as though trying to sense my reaction.

My reaction was shock. I could feel my eyes filling with tears, but I wasn't sure if it was because of remembering all of my recent hardships, or if it was because of the colonel's admitting that he was attracted to me.

He continued on, bringing me out of my shock briefly. "Anyway, Charlotte, I haven't really been sure what to do about this, because I did, after all, capture this girl. But after going to dinner and for a walk with her last night, I realize that I have to do something about these feelings. And so, I was wondering if you knew if this girl would allow me to court her."

I stood there, still in shock. What could I say to this? Everything in me wanted to say yes, and fling myself into his arms. I was just realizing in this moment, how much I had wanted to hear these exact words from William Tavington. And yet, he was a loyal British soldier. His men had killed my brother, and he had taken me from my mother and sisters. He had held me against my will, and still was. But then, if he had told me right that instant, that I could leave, I very much doubt that I would have.

I could feel the tears that had been brimming my eyes falling down my cheeks now.

Colonel Tavington lifted a hand and wiped a tear from my cheek. "I am sorry to have upset you so," he said, his face somewhat downcast. "I should never have said anything."

He turned and began walking away. After he had gone about ten feet, I regained my composure.

"William!" I cried.

He turned and looked at me, hopefully.

"Yes!" That was all I said, and I only had to say it once.

He walked back to me, beaming, and, just as I had wanted to, I flung myself into his arms and he held me as I sobbed, though I never did know why.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen: An Unexpected Visitor

Several weeks passed after the colonel and I began courting. Every spare minute that either of us had, we were together. When William, as I finally became used to calling him, wasn't out on raids or training new recruits, he would come and find me, wherever I was on the estate.

When I wasn't able to be with William, I spent my days with Abigail, who had become bedridden during these last weeks of her pregnancy. Sometimes I read to her, but most of the time we talked. It had been decided that because I was a woman, and because I had some experience, I would be delivering Abigail's baby. I had assisted a great deal when my youngest sister was born, but that had been over two years ago, and so I was feeling quite nervous at the prospect of helping Abigail to have her baby. However, she hadn't left me very much choice in the matter. Having taken a great disliking to Dr. Stanton, she told me that she "would rather have this baby with no medical assistance whatsoever than have that nasty old man's hands on me or my child." So, with some reluctance, I had agreed, and, with much coaxing on both my and Abigail's husband Peter's parts, we had convinced her to allow Dr. Stanton to be on hand, just in case something happened that I could not handle on my own.

On one such day, when William was out in the fields, training the new soldiers, Abigail and I sat in her room, discussing what she was going to do after having the baby.

"Peter and I have been talking, you know," she told me. "And since Peter is a free man, not a captive like myself, we think we may move away somewhere and start a small homestead or our own, to raise our family."

I sighed. I knew it was inevitable that Abigail would want to move on and leave her life at the mansion behind her, but I had hoped that it would not happen so soon. I had the colonel now, but I knew I could always count on Abigail.

"You don't have to look so sad about it," Abigail told me. "We won't be far away. And now that you have a colonel courting you, I'm sure you'll be able to come and visit us."

"I know," I said, sighing again.

"Sometimes I wonder how you have any breath left in you to speak, with all that sighing you do," Abigail told me, cracking a smile.

"I'm sorry," I said, forcing myself not to let out yet another sigh. "I just don't want you to leave."

"Well, it was just something that Peter and I had talked about. We're not entirely sure what we're doing. And no matter where we go, we'll need some source of income, so it may be in our best interests to stay here, where he's getting paid to cook."

I nodded. Abigail always knew what to say to make me feel better. I think that was what made her such a wonderful friend.

"Anyway, I got side tracked," Abigail continued. "What I wanted to say was that after the baby is born, we are going to have it christened, naturally. And, well, we were wondering if you would like to be the baby's godmother?"

I stared at her, in shock. I had not imagined that Abigail would ever have wanted me to be her baby's godmother. "Of course," I answered, not needing to think about it. I knew that there was no way I could ever say no to something like that.

Abigail smiled. "I'm glad. You have no idea what this means to us."

"You have no idea what it means to me," I countered. "You've been an angel from God since I came here, Abigail. I would do anything for you."

"Well, that's silly," Abigail teased. "I wouldn't expect you to do anything."

I smiled at her little joke. We talked a while longer, leaving the aspect of Abigail and Peter and the baby moving away out of our conversation. She understood that it wasn't something I wanted to discuss just yet. After a while, Abigail grew tired and politely asked me to leave so that she could get some rest.

I left her room quietly, but I did not return to my own quarters. There was nothing for me to do there. It was a fair day outside, regardless of the cold air. I had lost track of the months since my capture, but my best guess would be that it was November, at least. I decided to go outside, and walk through the fields that I had come to know quite well. I went out the back door, remembering happily as I walked into the sunlight, that day when William had first asked me to court him. Much had changed since then. I believed that it was possible that I loved him, but I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I had never felt so strongly for anyone in my life.

I walked through the fields, along the tree line. I was not permitted to venture into the woods, where I would be out of sight of the soldiers, because some still believed that I would try to escape. As much as I longed for freedom, I felt myself longing for Colonel Tavington more. I had no reason to try to leave now.

As I walked along, I heard a rustling in the trees beside me. I turned and peered into the woods, sure that something was moving in them.

"Pssssst!" someone whispered from behind the dense vegetation.

Now I knew that someone was there.

"Who is it?" I whispered. I looked around to make sure that no one was watching me. They weren't, but just in case, I did not venture into the woods. Instead, I smoothed my skirt and sat down on the ground next to the trees. It was the most least conspicuous way I could think of to talk to whoever was there.

"Charlotte?" came a shocked voice.

I peered into the trees. Whoever was there, they knew me. And then I saw them. My voice caught in my throat as I took in a sharp breath. There, staring back at me was my brother Nathan.

"Nathan?" I said, even though I knew it was him. "How-what-"

"Shhhhh," said my brother. "I've come to rescue you." He grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

"But they told me you deserted!" I could not believe this was happening. What was I going to do?

"Yes I know," he answered me. Beaming, he continued, "That was my idea, you know. We didn't want the damned British to expect me coming, so we allowed them, and obviously you, to believe that I had deserted. I'm so sorry I had to keep you waiting here like that, but I had to wait until I knew I had a chance of saving you." He looked at me, his large green eyes filled with both sympathy and joy at seeing me.

My mind raced as I tried to think what to do. I couldn't tell my brother that I wasn't leaving because I was in love with the same colonel that had killed so many of my brother's comrades.

"Hurry, Charlotte," Nathan urged. "This is our chance!"

"Wait," I said. I looked behind my brother. There were a few other men with him, all casting me impatient looks. They wanted to leave, and that was understandable.

"What is it?" asked Nathan.

"Um," I said, trying to make up the quickest lie I could. That's when it struck me. "I've sort of, um, established myself here within these past couple months," I told him.

"And?" asked Nathan, raising an eyebrow to reflect his interest.

"And…" my mind was racing almost as quickly as my pounding heart. "Perhaps I would be of more use to the Patriot cause here," I finally said. "I mean, a lot of the people here have come to trust me. Perhaps I could, um, gather information or something? A lot of important officers are here almost all of the time."

Nathan nodded, and I could tell that he was thinking hard about this. "I don't know, Charlotte. This doesn't seem like a job I want my younger sister doing."

"Please, Nathan," I said. "I've weathered the last two months here, surely I can stay a little longer. Then, once I've uncovered something useful, I'll be able to leave."

One of the men behind Nathan said, "She has a point. This could be a good plan."

"As long as she isn't caught," chimed in another soldier.

Nathan nodded, and finally met my eyes once more. "Very well, Charlotte. You try and gather whatever you can. I'll come back personally in a month. I'll meet you right here! If you haven't found anything by then, I'm getting you out of here."

I nodded, feeling nauseous. "Goodbye, Nathan," I said, watching he and his men scurrying away through the woods.

I stood and made my way back to the mansion. I felt as though I was walking through water. My stomach was churning after my encounter with my brother. I finally made it to the back door, but a group of young soldiers, obviously recruits, were walking in. At the end of the line, barking orders and insults at some of the less productive men, was William.

He saw me and came over.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, a worried expression coming over his tanned face.

"Um, yes, of course," I lied. "I'm just not feeling very well." This, on the other hand, was really not a lie. My heart was racing and my stomach felt queasy, and I thought I was going to cry.

William nodded. "Perhaps you'd best go and get some rest."

I felt my eyes tearing up, and I knew that I was not going to be able to maintain my cool composure. Seeing a break in the line of soldiers moving into the mansion, I said quickly, "Yes, that's probably a good idea," and hurried into the mansion, without another word to William.

I walked as quickly as I could make my legs go until I reached my room. I shut the door behind me and locked it. What was I going to do?

I thought about it and I knew what I was going to do. I was not going to have any information for my brother in one month's time, because I was not going to be looking for it. And then?

I had to make a decision. Which was I more loyal to: my brother and the Patriot cause, or Colonel Tavington, the man that I had grown to love?


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: The Arrival

I spent two days in my room, obsessing over what to do about my brother. Several times William came to check on me, but I feigned illness, saying that I didn't want to see him for fear he would catch what was ailing me. Of course, what was ailing me was nothing contagious. I knew that there was no way I could betray William, and at the same time, by being with him, I was betraying my brother.

Finally, on the third day after my encounter with my brother, something happened that I could not ignore.

I was laying on me bed, flipping through the pages of the book that William had given me so long ago. I wasn't really reading anything, as my mind was currently otherwise occupied, but it made me feel as though I was doing something.

I heard a sudden knock on my door, which jolted me back into the room, and out of my thoughts.

"Who is it?" I called. I knew it wasn't William. He had stopped at my room the previous night just long enough to tell me he hoped I got well soon, and that he would be gone for two days on raids along the coast.

"It's Peter," came the reply.

I was somewhat puzzled. Why would Peter visit me? I was his wife's friend, yes, but he had never had any reason to come and see me. However, the sense of urgency relayed in his voice told me that he was not here on a social visit.

I went to the door and let him in.

His face was pale and a little sweaty, and he was wringing his hands furiously.

"Peter, what is it?" I asked, my mind suddenly alive with speculations as to what was troubling Peter.

"It's Abigail," he panted. "The baby's coming!"

My voice caught in my throat. Abigail wasn't supposed to deliver for another month or so. I had heard of babies coming early and not making it, and I said a silent prayer that this would not happen to Abigail and her family.

"I'm coming," I told Peter, once I had regained my ability to speak.

He nodded, and led me to their quarters, where I could hear Abigail moaning in pain.

"Can you do nothing for her?" asked Peter. He had obviously never fathered a child before.

"I'm afraid the only cure I know for this kind of pain is to deliver the child," I told him. "Try to calm down, Peter."

Then I hurried into Abigail's quarters, wishing that someone would help me to calm down.

Twelve long hours later, Abigail was tired, but happy. She had delivered a tiny baby girl, somewhat smaller than I would have liked, but seemingly healthy, nonetheless.

Abigail smiled up at me. "Get Peter," she said, quickly returning her loving gaze to the face of her child.

I did as she said and went into the hall to retrieve Peter, who was pacing nervously.

"It's alright, Peter," I told him. "You can go in now."

"Then the baby is okay? Abigail's okay?" he asked, his tired face brightening slightly.

I nodded. "Your wife and daughter are both just fine," I informed him.

He nearly fell over. "A daughter?" he said, grinning. "Good Lord…I have a daughter!"

A young soldier whose name I didn't know walked past us in the hallway and Peter grabbed the man by the shoulders.

"I have a daughter!" he cried once again, obviously delighted.

The soldier got an uncomfortable look on his face and nodded, patting Peter on the shoulder.

"Congratulations," he muttered. Then he scurried down the hall.

"Peter," I said gently. "Go in. Your wife is waiting for you."

He nodded, his head bobbing up and down. "Yes," he said. "And my daughter, too!"

I couldn't help but chuckle as Peter hurried through the door into the quarters he shared with Abigail, and now with their child as well.

Author's Note: Sorry this is such an incredibly short chapter, but it seems my writer's block has returned with a vengeance. Not to mention, there are some things, such as childbirth, that I just don't want to write about in graphic detail. I promise there will be a longer chapter to follow soon!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: My Betrayal

I awoke the day after Abigail gave birth with nothing to do. Abigail and Peter had kindly requested that they have a couple of days to adjust to their new family life, and so I was left alone, once again, in my room. I flipped through the book William had given me, as I had done so many times before, still not really reading it. I paced through my room and looked out the windows. There was now a thick layer of frost on the ground and tiny snowflakes flying with the breeze. The cold that was so evident outside was, fortunately, not quite as present in the mansion, though it was cooler than it had been in October.

That afternoon, after falling asleep on my bed, I awoke to the sounds of several horses moving in. I went to my window, through which I could see the pathway in front of the mansion. There was a large company of men moving in. They were Dragoons and I anxiously searched their faces for William.

Before I had a chance to find him, I heard a knock on my door. I quickly patted down my hair and smoothed my skirts.

"Come in," I called, once I had determined that I looked appropriate.

A young servant boy, whom I judged to be about seven, walked into the room, clutching a piece of parchment.

"A man in the bushes told me to give this to you," he said, shyly. He thrust his arm out straight, giving me the letter.

"Thank you," I said, taking it curiously. I opened it quickly and recognized Nathan's messy scrawl. Before the boy had a chance to leave, I called him back. I looked around my room for something to give him, but found nothing that a small boy would want. Finally, I simply said, "Do you think you could keep this letter a secret? And don't tell anyone about the man in the bushes, either?"

He nodded, his head bobbing up and down furiously. "No," he said. "I won't tell anyone. I never had a secret before!" He grinned at me, and I patted his head of somewhat messy, matted blonde hair.

"Very well then," I said, as though I had just decided something quite important. "What is your name?"

"My name is Elliot," he told me, proudly.

"Well then, Elliot," I said, smiling at him. "This will be out personal secret."

"Alright," he said. "Goodbye!" Then he scooted out of the room, happily.

I thought of my sister, Margaret, who was little older than Elliot. Had she known of a secret letter, I was quite sure she would have forgotten it in little over a day. This eased my mind a little, and I settled down on my bed to read the letter.

It read:

"Dear Charlotte,

I am writing to remind you of our agreement to meet in one month's time in the bushes where I first spoke to you. I will be there at midnight in one week. Please do not linger in your coming; I cannot be seen. I hope that you are well, and that you have found some useful information for our cause.

Love, your brother,

Nathan"

I felt my stomach flutter as I read the letter. I had nearly forgotten of my agreement with my brother. In truth, I had no intention of leaving the mansion, or William. I did not know what to do.

I heard a second knocking at my door. "Charlotte! It's me!"

I quickly stuffed the letter from Nathan under my pillow. My heart leapt at the mere sound of William's voice, and thoughts of my brother fleeted. I hurried to the door and let him in.

"I'm so glad you're back!" I said, happily. "I've missed you."

"I missed you as well," he said, walking into my room.

"You may shut the door," I said, seeing that he had left it wide open.

"It wouldn't be appropriate," he said, his cheeks turning crimson.

I walked to the door and shut it quietly. "It's alright," I told him. "No one knows you're here."

"Very well, Charlotte," he said, walking to my bed. He sat down on the edge of it and I joined him.

"Are your men well?" I asked, carefully avoiding the subject of the raids. I had resolved just after beginning to court William, that we would avoid discussing matters of a political nature.

"Yes," he said. "They did surprising well this time out. One man, a private, sprained his arm, but he'll be fine."

"How did he sprain his arm?" I asked, curiously.

"Fell of his horse, the idiot," said William, rolling his eyes.

"I remember a certain colonel falling off his horse once," I said, remembering the incident in our first camp.

Once again, William's cheeks turned slightly crimson. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

I smiled and William wrapped an arm around my waist. He leaned in and kissed me, quite passionately. Now I was the one who was blushing. Somewhat hesitantly, I kissed him back. It felt so good, and before I knew it, we were lying back on my bed. Suddenly, realizing where things were going, I pulled away.

"William, no," I said, sitting up once again.

He nodded. "I'm sorry," he said.

I nodded. "It's alright."

William lay down on his side, stretching his arms towards the head of my bed. One hand made its way under my pillow, and before I could stop him, the expression on his face changed. He pulled out the letter from my brother.

"What's this?" he asked me, eyeing it suspiciously.

I grabbed for it. "It's nothing," I said hurriedly. "It's a diary entry."

He didn't give it back, but instead unfolded it.

"William, give it back," I demanded harshly.

I watched as he read it, his expression transforming back into the hard angry one that I had seen the night I was captured.

He looked up at me, his face contorted in a mixture of rage and hurt. "Is this what we've been doing? You pretend to love me so that you can get information?"

"No, William, I do love you," I said. It was the first time I had said it, but it was certainly not the way I had imagined it would be.

"What information have you gathered then?" he asked me, bitterly.

"None!" I cried. "William, I wasn't going to leave with him! I haven't been gathering any information, I just had to give my brother a reason why I was staying! He wanted me to leave!"

William raised a hand and slapped me.

"Do not lie to me!" he yelled.

"I'm not!" I sobbed, holding my face where I could feel the stinging imprint of William's large hands.

"I can't believe this!" said William, getting up and pacing my room. "How could you do this? How could you betray me like this?"

"William, please, you have to believe me!" I said, now standing as well. For some reason it made me feel more secure, although William was at least six feet tall, and I barely more than five feet.

He shook his head, looking from the letter to me, over and over. Finally, he said, "I am going to keep this. I am not going to report you, or show it to anyone. But I will promise you this much, there will be someone guarding your door all night one week from today!"

"Please, William!" I tried to plead with him once again.

"No, Charlotte!" he said. "I trusted you!" Shaking his head once again, he left my room.

I went back to my bed, feeling my knees buckle. I lay down on my bed where just minutes ago William and I had kissed so passionately. I sobbed, and prayed to God that William would forgive me.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Author's Note: Sorry for another short chapter! The story is undergoing another of what I call "transitional stages," in which we're moving from one major event to the next. These chapters are generally difficult to write, but I think without them it would just be too much drama!

Chapter Nineteen: All I Could Expect

After my argument with William I felt lost. In the time that we had been courting, my world had revolved around him, and our time together. My only had been Abigail, and after our fight, I turned to her once again.

Peter, unfortunately, was forced to return to the kitchens if he wished to remain in the mansion. Hungry soldiers, it seemed, had little sympathy for cooks who happened to be new fathers. However, with Peter back at work, I was able to spend my days in Abigail's quarters with her and her new daughter.

The morning after my fight with William I got up and dressed and hurried to Abigail's quarters. I knocked on the door and Abigail quickly called for my to come in.

"Good morning," I said, walking into the room. Abigail was sitting on her bed, holding the baby.

"Oh, it's you Charlotte," said Abigail, relief in her voice.

"Who were you expecting?" I asked. To my knowledge, I was the only person in the mansion that Abigail socialized with outside of working.

"Oh, that fool of a man, Dr. Stanton, keeps coming 'round trying to check on the baby," she said, angrily. "I've been letting him in just long enough to tell him not to come back, but he's terribly persistent."

I laughed. "Well, it might be better to let him look at her. Just to make sure she's in good health," I said. I didn't want to nose into Abigail's affairs, but I wasn't a doctor, and for the baby's sake, letting a real doctor check her seemed wise.

Abigail sighed. "Oh, you're probably right," she admitted.

"Have you and Peter come up with a name?" I asked, suddenly realized that I was not aware of the child's name yet.

"We named her Josephine Margaret," Abigail informed me proudly.

I drew in my breath and my heart skipped a beat at the name Margaret. Abigail noticed this.

"What's wrong?" she asked me. "You don't like the name?"

"No, no," I reassured her quickly. "It's a beautiful name. You see, my little sister's name is Margaret." I said "is," but in my mind I was questioning whether I should have said "was."

"Oh," said Abigail, nodding. A sort of sad expression came over her face. "You miss her, eh?"

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. I did miss her. And I missed little Susan, who would be three soon. And I missed my mother. I even missed my father. Mostly, I missed John. Poor John. I hadn't thought of him in a while, but suddenly memories came flooding back to me. I remembered when we were younger and John and Nathan and myself would play together. I remembered when they got old enough to go hunting with Father, and how I missed them. Just barely, I could remember Margaret's birth, and quite clearly I remembered Susan's. Up until that moment, I hadn't realized how much I did miss them.

"Oh, Charlotte," said Abigail, putting a sleeping Josephine in the crib that Peter had carved in his precious little spare time. She walked to me and gave me a hug.

I pulled away. "No," I said, shaking my head as tears streamed down my face. "I don't deserve anyone's pity," I sobbed.

"Why not?" asked Abigail, simply.

"Because I've been awful," I cried. And then I told her the entire story of what had happened between my brother and I. And I told her about my argument with the colonel the previous day. I told her absolutely everything, going on for at least an hour, taking breaks every so often to catch my breath. I cried until I had no more tears left.

The entire time Abigail listened. She never said anything, never interrupted me. She never even nodded. All she did was listen, letting my tell my entire story uninterrupted. Finally, when I was finished, she spoke.

"Charlotte," she said. "I don't deny that what happened wasn't fair. No one should have to choose between the man they love and their family." She sighed, and looked down.

"Abigail," I said, forcing her to look me in the eye. "What should I do?"

She took a deep breath. "I don't think there's anything you can do, Charlotte. You just have to wait. And it may take some time, but if he loves you, Colonel Tavington will forgive you."


	20. Chapter Twenty

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up! I had (once again) a terrible fit of writer's block! However, I think I have recovered, and things in this story should be well on their way once again!

Chapter Twenty: One Month

I spent the next few days with Abigail, helping with little Josephine. To my great relief, Abigail had finally consented to allow Dr. Stanton to examine the baby, whom he deemed in perfect health.

"Good," Abigail said, stubborn as ever. "Then I won't have to see you again for a while."

Dr. Stanton mumbled something that sounded to me like, "Thank God," took his pay and left. After Abigail had fed her fussy baby and put her down for a nap, she turned to me, a serious expression on her face.

"What is it?" I asked, even though I knew in the back of my head what she wanted to talk about.

"It's been a month, hasn't it?" she asked me. "Since you saw your brother, I mean."

"I knew what you meant," I said, shaking my head. It had been a month. Today was the day, but I wouldn't be there when my brother came. In the time since William had discovered the letter from Nathan, he had not looked at me once, nor had he spoken to me. I missed him terribly, but kept replaying my conversation with Abigail in my mind. In the meantime, she kept reminding me that, "If he loves you, he'll come around." I trusted her, but I could not help but wonder what it was he would be coming around to.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked, ever persistent.

"Abigail, I don't know!" I said, a little too loudly. We both looked quickly to the baby, but fortunately my outburst had not woken her. "I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I don't mean to yell at you, but I have no idea what to do, or even what I can do."

"Just remember what I told you," Abigail said, a knowing look in her eyes.

"I keep trying to tell myself that he'll forgive me, but he hasn't, and now the month is up!" I said, flopping down on the bed. "What am I supposed to do? I can't wait forever! And what if William captures Nathan?"

Abigail gave me a hard look. "I don't think he would do that to you. He may be mad at you, but I have it on good authority that he is still in love with you."

"And on whose authority would that be?" I asked harshly.

"His," Abigail had simply. I must have looked shocked, because she continued by saying, "You aren't the only person around here who confides in me."

"You mean you and William have been talking about this the entire time?" I asked, still to shocked to be angry or annoyed.

"I have known the colonel for a good long time," Abigail said. "And in that time, I have learned that regardless of the harsh way he carries himself, he is a good and honest man. Troubled, at times, but still a good one."

I continued staring at her. Finally, I asked her the only thing I could think of. "What did he say when you talked about it all?"

Abigail smiled, remembering the conversation that she and William had apparently shared. "Well," she said. "He came to me and said he trusted I knew what had happened. He knows that you and I are friends, and I suppose he expected you would come to me about this whole mess. So, I told him that I did know what had happened."

She pointed to my cheek, which had bruised slightly after William had smacked me. "And I gave him a piece of my mind about hitting you! But, anyways, he asked me what I thought he should do. He said that he loved you, but that he no longer knew whether or not he could trust you. Now, don't be angry, I did this for your own good. I told him the entire thing, from start to finish, about your brother. He seemed a little less angry after hearing the entire story."

"Did he tell you what he was going to do about it?" I asked her, leaning forward intently.

She shook her head. "No, he didn't tell me that. But he did tell me that he loves you, and that he doesn't want things to end because of this. He said that he would think it over and do whatever he felt was best for both of you."

I couldn't help but laugh at this. "You mean he'll do whatever is best for the British army!" I said. I knew that William led a soldier's life, and regardless of how we may have felt about one another, I was sure that his loyalty was first to his career and country, and second to me.

"Now don't you be like that!" said Abigail, sternly. "That man loves you, and you think that he would give that up for the British?" She shook her head, quite obviously disappointed in me. "You give him far less credit than he deserves."

I nodded, wondering whether or not she was right.

After that, the conversation just sort of stopped. I stayed for about another half an hour and then returned to my own quarters so that Abigail could get some rest, and so that I could mill over all that she had just told me.

When I got to my quarters, I was surprised to see a note laying on my pillow with my name printed on the front. I took it out of its envelope and read:

"Dear Charlotte,

Please meet me tonight behind the mansion at midnight.

William"

I reread the note, as though I could find some hidden meaning in the single sentence printed in front of me. What was William going to do? Why would he want me to meet him tonight? He wouldn't attack or capture Nathan, would he? Abigail said he wouldn't, but one can only take so much advice from a seriously sleep deprived new mother.

I passed the hours until midnight, lying on my bed, thinking. At one point I fell asleep, and when I woke it was already dark outside. I glanced at the clock that hung on my wall. It was already eleven o'clock. I could not believe that I had slept through all of dinner and well into the night as well. Perhaps this was my body's way of preparing for whatever was about to happen.

I got up and fixed my hair, twisting the long braid into a bun. I smoothed my dress and waited. I sat on my bed until forty-five minutes past eleven, when I at last left my room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

I walked through the dimly lit corridor and made my way down the stairs. There were a few soldiers still milling about in the dining room, drinking and smoking, but they didn't notice me slipping past the doorway. I hurried, in fear of being caught, to the small door at the back of the mansion, and I went out into the cold darkness.


	21. Chapter TwentyOne

Author's Note: I know, I know, it's short and took a long time to get here! Sorry about that! Really, though, there was only so much I could do with this chapter! There are longer chapters to come, though, I promise!

Chapter Twenty-One: Because I Love You

As I walked out into the cold night air, I could see the silhouette of another figure against the full moon. I walked towards it, knowing instantly who was there.

"William," I whispered, going to embrace him. Fortunately, I stopped myself, remembering that we were not currently on the best of terms.

He turned to face me and I could see his cold blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"Charlotte," he greeted me simply.

"I got your note," I said, feeling as though I needed to explain my presence.

"Yes, obviously," he answered. A small smile formed on his lips, but he quickly erased it. "Charlotte, I want you to understand that this has been very difficult for me."

"Yes, I know," I started in quickly. "William, I never meant for any of this to happen! And I wasn't going to leave with my brother! But I was caught between him and you, and I didn't know what to-"

He put a hand to my lips, silencing me.

"Charlotte," he began once again. "I ask that you do not interrupt me, otherwise I may never say what needs to be said. When I found that letter in your room, as you know, I was terribly upset and angered. I felt as though you had betrayed me. I had captured you, yes, but then I had taken care of you and looked out for you, and even…" he faltered slightly. "I even fell in love with you."

I started to say something, but then stopped myself. I could feel hot, angry tears spilling over in my eyes. I wanted, more than anything, to apologize, but somehow, I stayed my ground.

"I have given this all a great deal of thought," William continued. "For days I had no idea what to do about this letter. I even almost handed it in to my superiors at one point, but then thought better of that. I do not wish to cause you and your family any more trouble than I already have." He took a deep breath. "Therefore, I have decided that the thing to do is to let you go."

"William, no!" I protested. "I wasn't ever going to leave! Please, believe me!"

"I do believe you," he said. "But I also know you. And I know that you don't want to be a prisoner for the rest of your life. The best thing for you is to leave with your brother tonight."

"William, please!" I said again. Tears were now streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

"Because I love you, Charlotte," he said. "I have to let you go."

He took me in his arms and held me as I sobbed. I did not want to leave. Had this all come about months, even weeks ago, I would have left as quickly as possible, but now I felt as though leaving meant giving up the only man I had ever loved. I would be leaving behind this life that I had built up here, and I did not want that.

"Charlotte, you have to go," said William, gently pushing me away. "Your brother must be here by now. I'll watch you leaving."

I nodded, and turned to walk away. I felt as though all of my strength had been drained from me. Lifting my feet felt like an enormous task. Slowly, I plodded along through the field. I could hardly believe that this was happening. I mad my way through the field to the edge of the woods where I had met my brother before. Sure enough, he was there, waiting for me.

"Charlotte, hurry!" he urged. "We have to go!"

I turned and looked back at William, standing in the shadows, waiting for me to vanish into the night. I looked at Nathan, his expression one of urgency, longing to leave this place forever. And then I thought, for the first time since this had all come about, of myself. I considered what I wanted to do. I could leave with my brother and be miserable for the rest of my life, or I could stay here with the man that I loved.

"No," I said quietly, looking down at the ground.

"What?" said Nathan, giving me a puzzled look. "Charlotte, what are you talking about? Come on!"

"Go, Nathan," I told him, crying once again. I knew that I was never going to see my brother again. "I can't go."

"What? Why not? You're here; come on!"

"Because, Nathan," I said, looking back again at William. "Nathan, I've fallen in love. And I am staying here."

"Charlotte, this is madness!" said Nathan, taking my arm.

"No," I told him, shaking my head. "Me even considering leaving is madness. I'm sorry." I gently kissed my brother on the forehead and told him that I loved him, and then I turned and headed back into the night.

I ran up to the mansion and could hear the rustling of branches behind me as my brother left. At some point, William must have begun running as well, because he met me halfway and we embraced one another once again.

"Charlotte, what are you doing?" he asked me, his voice quivering like I had never heard before.

"I couldn't go!" I exclaimed, kissing him. "I couldn't go!"

"Why, Charlotte? You have a chance to leave this place, to have a real life! Why?"

I pulled away just enough to stare up into his piercing blue eyes. "Because I love you, William."


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo

A/N: Sorry this if this is a different format than I generally use. I am working on a different computer. And, I realize that this chapter may come off as somewhat conclusive, but I assure you, it is not the end of the story! As always, thank you for reading, and for your continued support of my writings! I hope you enjoy reading my story as much as I enjoy writing it! :)  
  
Chapter Twenty-Two: So Much To Offer  
  
William took my hand and the two of us walked back into the shelter of the mansion. I was still shaking after leaving my brother, but I knew in my heart that i had done the right thing at last. We walked through the hall and William led me up the stairs to my room. Once we were inside and the door was safely closed, we were able to speak.  
  
"You would sacrifice your freedom to be with me?" he asked. He was giving my a nervous look, and wringing his hands furiously.  
  
"William, I am not sacrificing anything. I am free when I'm with you. That's all the freedom that I could ever need." I felt as though I were finally saying all the things that I had been thinking for so long.  
  
I looked around the small square room that had become my home. When I had first arrived at the mansion, the room had been plain, and reflected nothing about the person who resided in it. Now there were dresses strewn about, and a hairbrush on the nightstand, alongside the book that William had given me when I was ill. I walked to it and brushed my fingers lovingly over the cover.  
  
William walked to where I was standing and stood behind me, peering over my head. We differed greatly in height, so it was easy for him to look over me. Look over, but never overlook, I thought, and laughed quietly to myself. William locked his arms around my waist and turned me slowly so that I was facing him.  
  
"You know I have little to offer you," he said, as though warning me. "In England, I was an aristocrat. Unfortunately, my incompetent father squandered away all of my inheritance with gambling and bad business deals. I have nothing outside of this mansion to offer you."  
  
"William, I don't need anything," I reassured him. "You have to believe me when I say that just being with you, just loving you is enough. When I came here I was frightened and scared and sick, and even though you were my captor, you reached out to me and helped me when you didn't have to. You made sure I was well taken care of, and it was you who granted me permission to wander the grounds alone. You have given me my freedom, in so many ways. And that is more than I could ever have expected."   
  
I stared up into the harsh blue eyes that had frightened me so long ago. It seemed, in that time, that something had changed in them. Though they were still hard and serious, there was something warmer to them now, something human. I had not noticed until that very moment that it was there.  
  
William backed away from me. To my pure amazement and shock, he knelt on one knee and took my hand. Looking up at me, he said, "I don't have a ring for you. I have little to offer financially. And yet, still, you love me. And I return your feelings wholeheartedly. Charlotte Peterson, I want to marry you. Will you have me?"  
  
I looked down at the man I loved, on bended knee before me. I had not seen this coming, and was quite taken aback by it, but my heart told me the answer.  
  
Tears of joy slipping down my cheeks I grinned and exclaimed, "Yes, William Tavington! I will have you with all of my heart."  
  
He rose and took me in his arms, kissing my passionately. And I knew, without a second thought, that the man who was kissing me was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. 


	23. Chapter TwentyThree

Author's Note: Yay! I think I may have finally conquered the writer's block that has been plaguing me for so many chapters! This is my longest chapter in such a long time! I hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter Twenty-Three: Engagement

William stayed with me in my quarters until the early morning hours. We talked about everything, from the uncomfortable situation with Nathan, to our wedding plans. We decided that, for now, we would not announce out engagement. I had wanted, more than anything, to tell the whole world that this amazing man wanted to marry me, but William refused to let anyone know until he had given me a ring. Unfortunately, in this particular situation, I was unable to overcome his stubbornness.

Had I not insisted, William probably would have stayed the entire night through in my room. However, we both had reputations to protect, and could not risk an early morning sighting of the colonel leaving my quarters. Finally, he left me alone.

I lay down on my bed, not feeling the least bit tired. My room was cold, but I did not feel it. It was as though my own happiness had created a shield around me, protecting me from all the unpleasant things that the world had to offer. I had even come to peace with what had happened with Nathan. I would always miss my family, but I understood now that I was part of a different world. And now that I was engaged to perhaps the most notorious British Dragoon, there was no turning back. And somehow, this did not bother me as I had expected it to. Falling in love had helped me set aside all of my previous worries, and I could at last set my sights on the future.

At some point, though I'm not sure how, I managed to fall asleep. I awoke a few hours later to a cold, pale light pouring through my windows. I had never shut the curtains. I sat up and rose from my large four-poster bed. There were large flakes of snow falling gracefully from the clouds above. I looked down and saw that they were forming a pure white blanket on the grounds. There had been snow flying in the breeze for some time, but it had never stuck before. I wondered for the first time in what seemed like months, what the date was.

Finally surrendering to the daylight, I forced myself to prepare to greet the day. I went to the pile of clothes that Abigail had given me and selected a warm, green dress that went well with my bluish-green colored eyes. I also grabbed an ivory colored knit shawl, that had also once belonged to Abigail. (She had given it to me, saying that she had plenty to spare.)

I made my way out of my quarters and into the washroom. Somehow I felt that a good scrubbing would help me wash away all of the sadness of my recent past. I rubbed all of the dirt that accumulated itself on my pale skin, and scrubbed my long, slightly curled locks, which had changed from a golden red to a darker shade of crimson, most likely because of my not being in the sun everyday for so long.

When I was done cleaning myself and had dried and dressed, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I had lost a good deal of weight since my capture, which, I suppose, was to be expected, considering how many meals I had missed. My cheekbones could be seen poking gently out. I did not look malnourished at all, but made a silent promise to myself to try and live a more healthy lifestyle. I pulled the top half of my long hair, which had now reached my waist, back into a braid, and a few short, curly pieces fell gracefully across my forehead. The woman I saw looking back at me was not beautiful, but she was not ugly either, and I felt a strange sense of confidence.

I left the washroom, and continued on my way down the stairs and into the hall. There were a few other women and several soldiers milling about, no doubt trying their best to avoid the cold camps, where so many men were freezing right now. I continued on into the banquet hall, where some breakfast was still being served, and I got myself a plate.

I took the first empty seat I saw and began nibbling at my food, feeling somewhat out of place among the several soldiers who were also there. There was a particularly large group sitting near me, discussing raids, and other war tactics. I did my best to tune them out, still not feeling ready to hear about the effects the war was having on others. I knew that it was probably wrong to let myself be blind to what was happening in the world, but for some reason I did not wish to know. I did not want my happiness to be spoiled by the war that had already devastated my family.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers broke apart from the rest of the group and took a seat next to me. I looked up, and nearly choked on the bite of food in my mouth. It was Captain Williams, the man whom I had so feared when I had first been captured. The look on his face was grave, and I wondered what on earth he was thinking as he watched me cough and choke down my food with a glass of water.

Somehow I mustered enough courage to speak to him. I did not know why I was so terrified in his presence, but something about him made me terribly uneasy, and I did not like the feeling.

"May I help you?" I asked, boldly. I was not sure what his reply would be, but I could not bear it any longer to sit there staring at him.

"I need to speak with you," he said, seriously. His dark chocolate colored eyes glinted somewhat mischievously, which only increased my nervousness.

"Well, go on then," I said simply. I was forcing myself to act bravely, but I knew that he could tell I was on edge around him.

"I think it would be easier for both of us if we had this discussion in private," continued the captain, nodding his head towards the door.

I could not imagine why Captain Williams would want to make anything easy for me, but something about the look in his eyes told me that I needed to hear what he was about to say.

"Very well," I agreed, abandoning my breakfast plate to go and speak with the man whom I had so hated for so long.

We walked out of the banquet hall and into the long hallway. The few women who were there scattered at the mere sight of Captain Williams. He nodded curtly at a few low ranking soldiers, who left the room immediately.

"What is this about?" I asked, wanting to get out of his presence as soon as possible.

"I saw you outside late last night," he began. A coy smile formed on his lips, and I had never seen anyone look so malicious in my entire life.

Suddenly, my mind was racing. I could feel the color drain from my already pale cheeks as I wondered what he had seen. If he had simply seen me talking with William than perhaps things would be alright, but if he had glimpsed me with Nathan…

"And?" I asked, pretending as if there was nothing disturbing about his statement. "I have permission to wander the grounds freely, and therefore I see no need to continue this discussion." I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm. I pulled away, taking a step back. I did not trust Captain Williams to treat me respectively, and there was no one there to help me.

The evil glint in his eyes returned and he grinned at me. "I think you and I both know what I saw. And it may take a little convincing to stop me from reporting it."

I stared at him in horror. I still had no idea if he had really seen anything or if he had simply seen me with William and was trying to get to me. All I knew was that this was blackmail, and that I would not give him what he undoubtedly wanted.

He took a step nearer to me and placed a hand on my cheek. "It's alright," he said in a soft voice. "I won't tell your precious Colonel about us."

"There is no us, Captain Williams," I said harshly, backing away once again. "And I ask that you keep your hands and your nasty thoughts to yourself." Without letting him say anything else, I hurried away and went up the stairs. I hurried to Abigail's room and knocked sharply on the door.

"Abigail, please let me in!" I called, urgently.

She quickly came to the door and opened it. "Come in, come in," she said, pulling me into the room by the arm. "And be quiet, you'll wake Josephine!"

"I'm sorry," I apologized hurriedly.

"I see you're still here," she said, looking me up and down.

"Yes, obviously," I told her, smiling as I thought of the previous night.

"Well, tell me what happened!" urged Abigail, plopping down on her bed. I joined her and we sat side by side as I told her all that had happened the previous night up to the disturbing encounter with Captain Williams.

"You think he really knows something?" I asked her, nervously. Of course, there was no way that Abigail could either confirm or soothe my fears away, but I felt I needed some reassurance.

"Well, to be very honest," she began carefully. "There is no way of knowing exactly what he knows. He may have just seen you out there with the colonel, or he could have seen your brother."

"Yes, but what should I do about it?" I asked. Abigail, of course, knew no more than I did, but she had given me advice so many times before that I had come to rely on her to know how to solve everything.

"Charlotte, honey, this is one problem that I do not know how to get you out of," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I do think though, that if I were you, I would tell Colonel Tavington what happened. He is, after all, Captain William's superior officer, and perhaps he could get things sorted out."

"Yes, I suppose that's true," I said, reasoning things out in my head.

"And," Abigail continued, "he could probably stop Captain Williams from harassing you like he did this morning. You are a respectable lady and you can't let him take that away from you, especially not when you don't even know for sure what he saw."

I nodded my head furiously. "Of course not! I would never, ever, give that man what I'm sure he wants."

"Well, good," said Abigail, sternly. Then, shaking her head, "You know, Charlotte, you're a wonderful person, but you sure do seem to attract a lot of trouble."

"I don't go looking for trouble," I said, defensively. Suddenly, I felt as though Abigail were trying to attack me and make me feel guilty. "It does seem to find me often enough, though."

Abigail nodded. "Well, for better or for worse, you are my dearest friend," she said, squeezing my hand. "And I wanted you to know that."

I grinned at her, feeling instantly better. "Thank you, Abigail."

The two of us sat in her quarters for some time afterward, discussing basic things. Abigail told me about her marriage with Peter, and how things had changed since she had had Josephine, and how wonderful it was that I was getting married.

"Yes, but remember, you mustn't tell a soul!" I said seriously. "We don't want anyone to know for a while yet."

Abigail laughed. "Charlotte, who would I tell?" she asked me.

I thought for a second. "I don't know," I admitted. "Peter?"

"And who would Peter tell? The boy who washes the dishes?" She laughed. "Don't worry, honey, your secret's safe with me."

"Thank you."

We continued our conversations for a while longer, until Josephine woke up. Abigail let me hold her for a while, until she settled down again, but soon she was once again awake. This time Abigail asked me politely to leave, saying that she had to feed little Josephine.

I rose to do so and, just before I left the room, I heard Abigail say quietly, "Congratulations on your engagement."

I returned to my quarters feeling, despite the confrontation with Captain Williams, as happy as I had ever felt in my life.


	24. Chapter TwentyFour

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter isn't as long as I would have liked! I have been very busy this week and then my Internet was down. I am lettting everyone know ahead of time that I am going to be out of town for about a week, so don't expect any chapters until after next Sunday! Thanks again for reading!

Chapter Twenty-Four:

A few hours after I had returned to my room, it was time to get ready for dinner. I changed out of my day dress and into the purple one that Abigail had given me for my first proper dinner with William. I pulled my hair into a bun and washed my face. Then I left my room, excited to see William.

I walked down the stairs and into the hall, where I saw him, standing with his hands folded behind his back, waiting for me. I walked as quietly as I could behind him, trying to sneak up on him, but he heard me coming and turned. I jumped a little, not expecting his sudden turn, and he grinned at me.

"Thought you could sneak up on me, eh?" he asked, taking me arm and leading me into the banquet hall.

"I was trying to," I admitted, shrugging. "Obviously it didn't work."

William pulled my chair out and I sat down. He pushed it in and sat next to me. I looked at him, taking all of his features in. As always, his piercing blue eyes sparkled somewhat playfully. His brown hair was pulled back into a harsh standard military queue. He wore his uniform, a green vest and red coat, just like all the other men, but somehow it looked more handsome on him.

"What is it?" he asked, noticing me studying him.

"Nothing," I said, smiling. "I just felt like looking at you."

Soon all of the other soldiers had taken their seats. As usual, most of them escorted British women, and they all began their endless talks of war. Much to my dismay, Captain Williams sat across from me, as he often did. He gave me a wicked grin just before taking a large gulp from his brandy glass.

I ate my dinner, hardly noticing what I was eating. My mind was abuzz with thoughts. I wanted to tell William about my encounter with Captain Williams earlier that day, but I had to wait until we were alone, and I was finding it quite difficult to be patient. William seemed to notice this, and, as he was always quite eager to leave the company of his superiors, he excused us and we left the banquet hall.

We walked into the long hallway. I started to stop at one of the chairs to take a seat, but William took my arm.

"Come," he said. "I have something to give you." He grinned mischievously as he led me up the stairs. I expected him to stop at my quarters, but instead he took me past them.

"Where are we going?" I asked, curiously.

"To my quarters," he told me. "I have to get something."

I nodded, not questioning him. Soon we stopped at a door, which William unlocked and entered. I followed closely behind. The room was large, with several windows and a four-poster bed, much like my own. There was an armoire and a desk and a large mirror with a fancy frame.

"I can only imagine what the Lord General's quarters are like," I said, looking around the room.

"It's just a room, Charlotte," William scoffed.

I ignored him and took a seat on the edge of the bed. William was rummaging in his desk for something. I peered over my shoulder, trying to see what he was looking for, but he turned so that his back was to me.

Finally, he walked to the bed and sat beside me. He took my small hand in his large one and slipped something onto my finger. He let go and I held my hand up. Around my ring finger was a small but elegant ring in a silver setting. The stone was emerald green, with tiny diamonds on either side of it, sparkling slightly in the dim candlelight.

"Oh, William, it's beautiful," I told him, turning to face him.

He frowned. "It isn't what it should be-" he started.

"It's wonderful!" I interrupted him. "Thank you."

He smiled. "I'm glad you like it," he said.

Suddenly I remembered Captain Williams. I did not want to bring it up now, but I felt it necessary to inform William as to what was happening.

"William, I have to tell you something," I began. I then told him the entire story of how the captain had spoken with me in the hall that morning. As I spoke I could see William's expression changing into one of rage.

"That bastard!" he nearly screamed, making me jump. "That pompous, arrogant bastard!" He stood up and began pacing the room, spewing more and more angry words. "Why, the damned fool!" he continued. "What makes him even think that he can talk to you? What makes him think that he can blackmail my fiancée!"

"No one knows we're engaged," I said emotionlessly.

"That's not the point, Charlotte!" he said, turning to face me. "He has no right to talk to you, or to me, even! Why, I'll kill the-"

"William, please!" I interjected. "You can hate Captain Williams without cursing so much."

A few moments passed during which neither of us spoke. Finally, I asked him what he intended to do.

"I'm not entirely sure just yet," he told me, finally sitting down next to me again. "I may speak to Cornwallis about it. If nothing else I can have some restrictions put on the captain's recreational time. That should keep him away from you."

"William, I am sorry," I said, wholeheartedly. "I didn't want to upset you. But last time I kept something this important from you was with Nathan, and that nearly destroyed us."

William leaned into me slightly and put his strong arm around my shoulders.

"Don't worry," he said reassuringly. "I'll sort everything out. And I am glad you told me."

I nodded, believing him. I looked down at my hand and saw my beautiful engagement ring. "I guess it's official now," I said, happily.

"Funny," said William, taking my hand in his and caressing it gently. "In my mind it always was."


	25. Chapter TwentyFive

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update! I spent all of last week out of state, and was very busy this week, not to mention my Internet was once again on the fritz! However, I think everything is finally under control, and hopefully I will be able to continue updating on a regular basis!

Chapter Twenty-Five:

Time passed slowly after William presented me with my engagement ring. We finally announced our engagement formally, and were given the blessing of the Lord General Cornwallis. I learned that it was now December, and that the date of our engagement was December second. A light coating of snow covered the grounds, and fires were kept going at all times to heat the mansion.

Fortunately, nothing more came of my encounter with Captain Williams. William never really told me what he did about it, but apparently it worked, and I did not question it. I was merely content in the fact that the captain was leaving me at peace.

Some time in mid-December, the Dragoons left camp for two weeks to conduct raids in the North. William promised me that he would be back in time for Christmas, and whenever I began to miss him, I reminded myself that he would be back soon, and that we would spend the holidays together.

One evening, two nights before William was due to return, I was sitting alone in my room, trying to occupy myself by rearranging my few belongings. This kept me busy for a short time, but when I was done, I was once again fighting boredom.

Sighing, I walked to the window and looked out onto the grounds. The sun had nearly set, and the snow was glistening in what was left of the daylight. My eyes scanned the area around the building. The soldiers who had been there at all times for so many weeks were now missing, either sheltered from the cold inside the mansion, or out conducting raids with William.

Suddenly, something caught my eye. Something was moving in the tree line, which was slightly visible from my window. Curious, I opened my window and leaned out against the cold, peering intently at the trees. What could be moving there in the dead of winter? There it was again! Something was definitely in there.

Unable to fight my curiosity, I shut my window and retreated back into my room. I went to my bureau, where my clothing was kept, and got out my warmest wool shawl. Wrapping it tightly around my shoulders, I walked to the door, the skirt of my red velvet dress rustling slightly as it brushed the floor. I left my room and headed down the stairs. Making sure that no one was watching me, I slipped out the front door, which I seldom used, and into the dark and stillness of the night.

Silently, I crept towards the trees, determined to find out what was there. I did not know why, but something in me told me that I had to see what was there. There was just enough light left to see my way to the trees and I made my way there, feeling strangely unafraid of what I would find.

I saw it again! A rustling, and some tree branches moving. Something was making its way towards me. I covered my mouth to stop myself from crying out in surprise. I could now clearly see that what was hiding in the trees was not a what, but a who.

"Nathan!" I exclaimed, hurrying to my brother's side. "What are you doing here?"

"Charlotte," he said, gasping for breath. He had obviously come a long way to get here.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, scanning his body for wounds.

"No, no," he reassured me, putting a hand up. "I'm just cold, and tired."

"Why are you here?" I asked once again.

"Charlotte, why wouldn't you leave with me before?" he asked.

This surprised me. For some reason, I had not thought that he had come to once again try and persuade me to leave the mansion with him.

"Nathan, I'm getting married," I said quietly. I held out my left hand and he squinted, peering at my ring, his face emotionless.

"To whom?" he asked me, although I had a feeling he already knew the answer to that question.

"Colonel Tavington," I answered, feeling my cheeks turn crimson, regardless of the fact that I was silently willing them not to. I wanted to be strong, and I wanted to be proud of the man who was going to be my husband, and yet here with my brother, for the first time, I felt like a traitor.

"I had a feeling," said Nathan, shaking his head slightly. "We had gotten word that the colonel was marrying, but we didn't know who. I thought maybe it was you."

"Nathan, I'm sorry," I said, although I wasn't entirely sure what I was apologizing for.

"Do you love him?" asked my brother curtly.

I was somewhat taken aback, but I answered honestly. "Yes, Nathan, I love him."

"And does he love you back?"

"Yes, I believe that he does."

"Then don't apologize," Nathan told me, looking my in the eye. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." He paused, and then laughed lightly. "Though he wouldn't have been my first choice for a brother-in-law."

I laughed nervously, and crouched down in the snow next to my brother. I had missed him. We spent a good amount of time sitting there, talking together. I learned that Nathan had been promoted to corporal, and that he was making his way steadily up the ladder to success in the Colonial army. He told me that he had decided to make military life his career. I also learned that my mother and sisters were now living in a small, secluded town near the coast, where they were safe from any harm.

Sitting there in the snow with Nathan, I was hardly aware of anything else, even the bitter cold. However, something did finally draw my attention away from our conversations. Nathan heard it too. There was a steady crunching of snow, coming slowly towards us. Someone was outside.

"Nathan, go, quickly!" I whispered, urgently.

He shook his head. "There isn't time! I'll be seen!"

"Nathan, you have to go! Please! You can't be caught!"

"If I try to get away now, I will be!" Nathan said.

I started to say something back, but he clamped his cold hand over my mouth, silencing me. I looked out through the bare branches and saw who was approaching. Standing in the snow, holding a lantern, was Captain Williams, himself.


	26. Chapter TwentySix

Author's Notes: Sorry this is another very short chapter! I meant to make this part of the last chapter, but it didn't work out the way I planned. I will try and put a longer chapter up soon!

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Shot in the Darkness

I took a deep breath of harsh, cold air and held it. I was suddenly aware of everything in the world, which had been so easy to ignore during my conversations with Nathan. There was cold water from the snow seeping through my skirts, making my skin numb. My nose was moistening in the cold, and I could see tiny puffs in the air as Nathan breathed.

Captain Williams stood, alone in the snow, staring at the ground, studying. The snake had followed me. And now he was staring down at the remnants of my footsteps. My only hope was that my skirts brushing along on the fresh powder had made my steps difficult enough to trace that the captain would not find us.

It seemed as though we sat there for hours, not breathing, not speaking. And the entire time, the captain simply stood there with his lantern, looking around, no doubt hoping that we would do something foolish and reveal our location to him.

Suddenly, he moved. He took a single step towards us, and I did my best not to gasp, because I knew that in the stillness of the night, a single intake of breath into one's lungs could be the same as calling out. Unfortunately, the captain continued forward. He knew where we were, and probably had the entire time.

Nathan stood, his pistol drawn, aiming straight at the captain, who did the same. At this point, there was no more reason for me to hide in the snow on the ground, so I stood as well.

"Go, Nathan!" I cried, terrified as I stared at the two men, who were in an obvious stalemate.

"Don't be daft, woman!" Captain Williams said, laughing. His eyes glinted eerily in the moonlight, and his voice echoed through the trees. "You know as well as your brother that if he runs I will shoot him."

Nathan did not speak. Instead, he cocked his pistol in preparation to fire. Again, the captain did the same. And then he turned his pistol on me.

I heard the shot before I felt it. A loud crack, a moment of confusion, and then a sharp, piercing pain in my side. I gasped for breath and fell to the ground, watching my own blood pour from me, staining the pure white snow.

"You bastard!" I heard my brother scream. Then I heard another shot. I strained my neck, forcing my head upwards so that I could see what had happened. The captain was now lying on the ground, much like myself.

I saw a crack of light form in the snow, and suddenly, soldiers were pouring from the mansion, rushing towards us. Someone yelled to get Dr. Stanton. I scanned the chaos for my brother, and saw him, his hands being bound tightly by one of the soldiers I had passed so many times in the hall. I tried to tell him that my brother had done nothing wrong, that he had shot the captain for a reason, but by that time everything was fading. And then my world went black.


	27. Chapter TwentySeven

Chapter Twenty-Seven: What Really Happened

I faded in and out of consciousness for several hours afterward. In retrospect, I was most surprised that it was not pain that I experienced, but instead a strange numbness, that seemed to consume the whole of me. At times I was dimly aware of the presence of Dr. Stanton and Abigail, and once I thought I heard William's voice calling for me, but for the most part, my world was a hazy nothingness.

Finally, after almost two days spent in this manner, I was awake enough to be somewhat alert. Someone had carried me to my quarters, and I was lying on my bed, flat out. I started to try and roll over, but my sides were tightly wrapped, and attempting to move caused me a good deal of pain. I looked down and saw a dull bloodstain coming up through my bandages and nightdress. I forced my head to turn to one side and saw that my sheets and some of my blankets were piled in the chair at my bedside, also bloodstained. It appeared, for the moment at least, that I was alone in my room.

However, when I turned my head to the other side, I was surprised to see that I was not alone. Sitting hunched over in a chair beside my bed, his head resting in his hands on the side of my mattress, was my William. He hair was out of its harsh military queue, and he wore naught but his shirt and pants, excluding his usual vest and red coat, as was the standard uniform for a British Dragoon.

Ignoring the aching in my side, I forced myself to speak.

"William," I said, but it came out as a mere whisper. I took a deep breath and made myself say it again, more loudly this time. "William."

William stirred in his sleep and picked his head up, rubbing his swollen eyes wearily. He had obviously not been sleeping for long, as there were dark circles under his eyes. I was surprised to see that his normally enchanting blue eyes were now bloodshot, and their sparkle seemed to have diminished since I had last gazed into them. Or perhaps it was simply the lack of light in the room.

"Charlotte!" William nearly cried, bolting up out of his chair. "You-you're-" he stuttered. "You're awake!" He put a hand to his forehead and took a deep breath, as though he was trying to recover from some sort of shock. "Oh, Charlotte," He began again. "I thought the worst…Dr. Stanton didn't expect you to make it through till morning!"

I smiled weakly. "Well, I believe he's been proven wrong before, has he not?" I asked, in a dismal attempt to make light of the situation. The events of the previous evening were slowly coming back to me.

Captain Williams had shot me. Even now, looking down at the blood-soaked bandages that were covering my wounds, it was a shock to me. Even after all that I had thought of him, I had never believed that he would attempt to kill me.

And then I remembered that I had not been the only one there. Nathan, my beloved brother, had been there, too. And he had shot the captain in retaliation. And then…And then he had been captured by the British soldiers. After shooting a British officer.

"William!" I said, wincing with pain as I forced the words out of me. "What…happened…to…Nathan?"

William looked down. "He's being held right now," he told me. "He is….he is scheduled for hanging at dawn."

"William, no!" I said, crying out in pain after shouting the words. "William, you have to stop them! He…he did it to help me! Please!"

William gave me a strange look. "Charlotte…I don't understand. Why would you want that bastard saved? He shot you!"

I stared at him. Now I was giving him the shocked look. "No he did not!" I argued, angrily. "Captain Williams shot me!"

"But Captain Williams said….well…right before he died, he said that it was all your brother…"

"He died?" I asked. God, my brother had killed a British officer. "Never mind, that doesn't matter now," I said, shaking my head to the best of my ability. "You…" I now had to pause between words because the sharp pain emitting from my wound had returned. "You…check…Nathan's…gun…. I…guarantee…there….was…only…one…shot…fired." I took a deep breath. I was now breathing hard, and I could feel myself becoming somewhat woozy and light-headed as I went on. "Please…stop….them…"

William's face was paling. "Charlotte," he said, looking at my sheets. "You're bleeding again. I have to get the doctor." I had never seen that look on William's face. Even when he was going off to battle, and to perform raids, I had never seen a look of such shear fear on his face.

"William," I said, my eyes filling with tears. I was now struggling to get the words out. "Please…my brother."

William looked down. "I will do whatever I can." He turned and headed to the door.

"William," I called him back. He turned and looked at my over his shoulder. "Promise me."

"I promise, Charlotte," William said. Something in his eyes told me that he truly would try. And I did not have time to question it before my vision grew blurry, and my eyelids once again closed against my will.


	28. Chapter TwentyEight

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Saving Nathan

I did not awake until two days later. This time, I felt more awake and alert, and remained conscious. William was at my side, just as he had been the first time I awoke.

"Charlotte," he said, looking at me lovingly. He cupped my chin in his hand.

I smiled a little, and then I remembered what he had told me about Nathan and the death sentence that may have had already taken him.

"Nathan?" I asked, sitting up in bed, eagerly awaiting the knowledge of my brother's fate.

Then William told me what had happened:

"You lost consciousness just as I left the room, and I got Dr. Stanton, just as I had told you I would. He said that you would be alright, that you just had to rest up and let your wounds heal." At this point William broke off and told me how Abigail had spent the majority of the past few days in my room, cleaning my wounds and dressing them carefully. I made a metal note to thank Abigail. It seemed I was always thanking Abigail for something, but she certainly deserved my gratitude!

William continued, "I hurried to Cornwallis's quarters and woke him. He had the pistol that Captain Williams had used against you in his possession as evidence, along with Nathan's pistol. Needless to say, the napping general was not overjoyed at my presence, but he got up and allowed me into his quarters, with much negotiating on my part.

"Once inside his quarters, I looked at each of the guns. And, just as you had said, Charlotte, there was one shot fired from each. I was sure that your brother would not have shot you, so I had only to assume that the shot fired against you had come from the captain's gun."

Once again, William broke off, this time shaking his head and pacing the room, furiously muttering profanities about Captain Williams. Although I too, was angry, the captain was dead, and cursing him would make no difference in the situation. I was too interested in learning what had happened to Nathan to listen to William's ranting at the time, so I shushed him, and he continued explaining what had happened.

"I explained the situation, including your account of what had happened, to Cornwallis, but he didn't want to listen. The damn fool was too excited at the prospect of hanging a continental to listen to reason, and there was nothing I could do to convince him of your brother's innocence in it all."

At this point, my eyes began to fill with tears. I was sure that my brother must be hanging in the gallows, his body on display, as we spoke.

"It's alright, it's alright," William reassured me. A mischievous smile crept over his face, and his blue eyes sparkled.

"William Tavington, what did you do?" I asked, pushing myself up in bed even further, showing that I was at attention.

"I took care of things, that's all," William said casually.

"Tell me what happened!" I demanded.

"Alright," William said, sitting down at my bedside once again. "And don't get yourself all worked up; you're supposed to be taking it easy!"

"Then tell me what happened!" I demanded once again.

"Very well," William said, still smiling at my obvious irritation. "Well, I went down to camp, where Nathan was being held, and put on my angry face-" his lips curved downward into their characteristic frown, the one that so frightened and intimidated the soldiers he commanded. "This, of course, helped scare the cowards who were guarding the door enough to let me into their little makeshift dungeon."

"And?" I asked, eagerly.

"Well, when I went in, I asked your brother what had happened the night of the incident. And, as sure as I'm a British colonel, he gave me the same exact story as you had. This was enough proof for me, so the two of us devised a plan."

"What was it? What did you do, William?" I had now moved past my fear that Nathan could have been executed, or otherwise killed, and instead I just wanted to know about Nathan's apparent escape.

"It was quite simple, really. The dullards didn't even think to guard the back of the tent they were holding your brother in. So I simply untied his bonds, and sent him on his way, our the back of the tent and into the woods." He grinned, proudly. "And then, I stormed angrily out of the tent and screamed at the guards that they hadn't watched the prisoner properly, and that he had escaped, which I of course, proceeded to blame them for."

"William Tavington, you are amazing!" I gushed. I had never loved William more than I did in that moment.

"And, just to put your mind at ease," William continued. "Your eldest brother has given us his blessing on our engagement. He wanted me to tell you that even though he would not be able to be there at our wedding, he was incredibly proud of you, and wished us every happiness."

My eyes were once again filling with tears, but this time they were tears of joy. William leaned over me and kissed me, and I finally felt at peace with my world.


	29. Epilogue

Epilogue:

In April of the following year, William and I were married. Abigail helped me prepare for the big day, curling my hair, helping make my gown, and even standing by my side as my maid of honor. Captain Bordon was William's best man.

It was a small service, which was what we had wanted. We were married outside, and surrounded by the beginnings of spring flowers. The weather was perfect, and blue sky of puffy white clouds sailed by overhead. The Lord General himself performed the ceremony.

Perhaps the most amazing surprise of the day, was that my beloved mother and two sisters were present. Nathan had alerted them of my engagement, and, as a surprise wedding present, he and William, who were secretly corresponding, arranged for my family to be there.

Within a year of our marriage, I was pregnant with William and my first child, a son, John Adam Nathan Tavington. And, in another two years after that, we were blessed with twins, a boy, Philip Eric Tavington, and a girl, Louise Abigail Tavington.

Our small, beautiful family lived in the mansion until William was killed in battle, near the end of the world. Although I had always known there was the possibility that my husband could be killed in battle, I was totally unprepared for the loss. However, with three small children to raise, I was unable to spend my days mourning, and instead was forced to move on and raise my family, making sure that my children would always know how much their father had loved them.

After the war, my children and I headed North, to Canada, where we lived by the sea in a small port village. I opened an inn, which I managed with m beloved friends, Abigail and Peter, who had moved North along with me.

Although the road that I traveled in my life had many bumps along the way, I do not regret a single moment of it. And although there are still days that I miss my beloved husband terribly, I know that he would want me to continue living, and that the love we shared was genuine.

I am forever a patriot, but I am also forever loyal. William Tavington taught me that it was possible to be both. And for that, I am forever in his debt.

Author's Note: I can hardly believe that this story is over! I realize the end may have seemed somewhat sudden, and I apologize for that, but I have been trying to wind things down for some time now. It has been a wonderful few months working on this story, and I send out my sincerest gratitude to everyone who read or reviewed on my story! Your feedback was truly wonderful, and kept me going when I was plagued by every author's worst nightmare: writer's block! Thank you all so much!

Jade7777


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